Tours Chaînés Déboulés
by anissa7118
Summary: Black Swan AU, with an older and darker version of Lily as the director.  How would things have been different if she was in charge?  Come find out.  Lily/Nina eventually; mentions of Beth/Thomas, Beth/Lily.
1. Nina

**Author's note****: Welcome, readers. This is a **_**Black Swan**_** alternate universe fic, so it needs a bit of explanation before you dive in.**

**It all started like this: someone who read my other story, **_**Coda**_**, came over to the blackswan_fic community on LJ and posted a really thought-provoking prompt. She said that a lot of the current Nina/Lily fic assumes that Lily is a good person and that Nina's hallucinations pretty much misrepresented her as being dark and dangerous. The specific spin the reader requested was a dark version of Lily.**

**The same reader also asked what would Black Swan have been like if the director of the company was a woman? Specifically, what if it was Lily? The two requests combined open up all kinds of interesting questions. And my muse can't resist a challenge.**

**So this is **_**Black Swan**_**, seen through a glass darkly. You should know the characters, but this Lily has no heart of gold, and she's older than Nina. Not that Lily is straight-up evil; she's just … complicated.**

**Warning****: this fic contains scenes of workplace sexual harassment, flashbacks to traumatic events, lots of profanity, sexual themes, and fairly graphic sex (femslash and het).**

…

Directing a ballet company is a man's game, always has been, but Lily – she is known by the one name only, never gives a surname – plays it well. There are rumors she plays other men's games, rumors that Nina pays no attention to. She tells herself Lily and Beth are just close friends, that it's a good thing for the company if the young director and the seasoned star have such a positive working relationship, that 'princess' is merely an affectionate nickname. Never mind that one glimpse through the not-quite-closed door of Lily's office, never mind that it _looked_ like they were kissing, that surely couldn't be.

Lily _is_ young for her position, not _that _much older than the soloists, but like her surname she keeps her exact age a mystery. Somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties is anyone's best guess. She arrived from California some years ago in a cloud of intrigue, a beautiful former dancer, more recently a talented choreographer, and all too soon she'd taken over the directorship of no less a company than the New York Ballet. Nina has been working for Lily for four years, growing to appreciate a woman's style in running the company. If Lily pays particular attention to her, it must be because of her skill; Nina is a perfectionist of the highest order.

Erica doesn't approve, but in _her_ day there simply were no female directors, and to hear her tell it the West Coast was untamed wilderness, the prima ballerinas of Seattle and San Francisco no better than the New York or Boston chorale. Nina doesn't disagree with her, just keeps her head down and nods in the right places while Erica mutters angrily about the presumptuousness of it all.

And then the big day arrives. Lily has decided to put on a bold re-envisioning of _Swan Lake_, but Beth will not automatically have the coveted Swan Queen role. One of the younger soloists will get it, and after Lily makes the first cut of them, seven are left to compete for the honor.

That night, Nina practices and practices until her toes bleed afresh. When she dances the white swan the next day, the other girls glower and Lily smiles warmly. "Nina, honestly, the moment I decided to do _Swan Lake_ I thought of you for the white swan."

Nina blushes under the praise, and Veronica sneers when she thinks Lily isn't looking. Lily isn't finished yet, though. "You're perfect for it – but the white swan is only half the role. Her alter ego is the real challenge, full of passion and danger. So dance the black swan for me now, Nina." There's something about the way she says it, something about the way she leans forward with her mascara-shrouded gaze intent on Nina, that makes her nervous. She dances, but it's all wrong from the first move, tight and tense, technically perfect yet somehow bloodless.

Worse, Nina knows it, sees the scowl on Lily's face. Knowing she's losing her chance at greatness, she tries harder, but only becomes more brittle, more forced, more anxious. Someone scoffs loudly, and the distraction throws off her rhythm so much that Nina almost turns her ankle.

"Stop," Lily says, and the very softness of her voice warns them of her dangerous mood. "Whichever one of you did that, leave. _Now._ You _will_ show respect for each other's work, or you can go get a job at fucking Starbucks. Do I make myself clear?"

After a long, tense moment, one of the girls flees the studio, and Lily nods. "Veronica, you're next."

Nina draws in breath to protest, but the words die on her lips when she sees the ice in Lily's expression. Instead she takes a seat, biting her lip, trying not to let her disappointment show. This was her chance, she's worked harder than anyone else over the past four years, striven day and night and even in her dreams to be everything Lily wants of her, and now she's lost. Again.

For a while she stews in her failure; when everyone else breaks for lunch Nina sits alone in the dressing room, hugging her knees to her chest. That's the only reason she hears the argument between Lily and Beth.

"No! I will _not_ sit by while you…" Beth shouts, and the end of the sentence is cut off by Lily's voice, low and carrying with barely-suppressed rage.

"Enough, Beth. You know better. You knew what the deal was when it started. Don't try playing these games with me. It won't work."

"How dare you! How dare you talk to me like I'm one of them!"

"You're lucky I let you stay, Beth, with all the trouble you've caused me."

"_Trouble?_" Beth hisses. "I'm the principal of the company, damn you, I've sold out a dozen shows in the last two years for you…"

"And not one in the last season. It's the business, Beth. There's nothing I can do about it. Except this – I'm not covering up for you anymore."

Beth laughs nastily. "You're not covering up for me? Oh, well then I'm not going to keep your secrets either, Lily. And you've got a lot more to hide than I do."

Lily just chuckles, and the sound raises the hairs on the nape of Nina's neck. "No, I don't. Trust me, Beth, my sins are a lot more socially acceptable than yours. And I never said I'd stop keeping your secrets, just that I wouldn't cover for you. That means when you drink yourself stupid in some filthy little bar, I'm not coming to get you. Take a cab like everyone else. Understood?"

The rest of the argument degenerates into petulant muttering, and Nina's ashamed of herself for having listened. It sounded almost like a lover's quarrel, something private, not for her ears…

But Lily's very disappointed in Beth now, and why shouldn't she be? If what she said is true, Beth's a lot farther gone than anyone suspects. Some of the other girls joke about her age, how the company needs new blood, but Nina's always been kind about it even as she covets Beth's place.

And now she has an idea on how she might win it.


	2. Lily

The next morning Lily's heading to her office when the company's mouse steps out in front of her and says, "Can I talk to you for a minute?" It's unusual enough for Nina to be bold, to ask for anything, that Lily finds herself intrigued. And then she notices the dressy blouse, the earrings, the eyeshadow, the lipstick.

Oh, dear. Lily can barely keep from smirking in anticipation; this ought to be amusing. She lets herself be talked into the meeting and heads into her office, curling up in her chair with her feet tucked underneath her. She must look like a cat staring at a little bird, but Nina manages to keep herself composed. "Lily, I … I went home last night and practiced the black swan. I finished it."

"Good," Lily says, and waits for it. Does Nina have the courage, or doesn't she?

"I … I just wanted you to know." Nina's eyes dart to her face for a moment, then she casts her gaze modestly downward.

"And now I do. Nina, why are you _really_ here?" Lily asks.

Nina looks up at her, doe eyes full of anxiety and bravado in unequal, uneasy measure. "I … came to ask you for the role."

Her voice is soft; Lily hears her perfectly, but makes her repeat herself anyway. Once she does, Lily sighs and rakes her fingers through her artfully-highlighted hair. She changes position, too, drawing one knee up and clasping her hands around it, incidentally baring more of her toned thigh. Nina's glance flicks between Lily's face and the floor, not stopping at the temptation. Ah well, there's time for that later.

"Nina. You're the most technically perfect dancer in this company; don't think I don't know that, and respect it. But this role takes more than _skill_. The black swan has to have passion, fire, danger – she has to seduce the audience and frighten them just a little. She's the mirror image of the white swan, the dark doppelganger who steals the hearts of the prince _and_ the audience away from her pretty twin."

With that she rises and moves toward Nina, a sultry sway in her step. "Now, when I look at you, I see the perfect white swan: beautiful, fragile, pure. You'd be magnificent in that role. But in four years of dancing I've never seen you let go, lose yourself, just flow with the music. You're always so controlled, always so worried about the tiniest error. And the black swan must be free, wild, imprecise even – you'd have to relax, let it come through you instead of forcing it, surprise yourself so you can surprise the audience. Do you understand?"

It's a hell of a challenge to give to Nina, and the girl nods silently. For a second Lily's disappointed, thinking she'll refuse to rise to it, but then Nina says so quietly, "I can dance the black swan, too."

_Yes._ _She's taking the bait._ "Are you sure? Because Nina, I've _never_ seen that side of you. Not once have you surprised me." Lily keeps her voice skeptical, crossing her arms.

"I can do it. I want the role." Nina lifts her head, lets her chin jut out a little, meets Lily's gaze steadily for once.

But it can't be easy, dancing this won't be easy at all, if Nina wants it she has to be willing to fight for it, so Lily sets another stumbling block in her path. "I already chose Veronica," she lies.

Nina flinches as if from a blow. She crumples, nodding silently, and turns to go. For a second Lily thinks of letting her, but then the idea of putting Veronica in the role – and the private dressing room beside Beth's – doesn't intrigue her nearly as much as having Nina there. Just as Nina opens the door, Lily reaches around her and pushes it closed again. "That's it? You're just gonna walk away?"

Nina looks at her with prettily bemused eyes, and Lily steps into her personal space deliberately, turning the full force of her considerable charisma on her dancer. "Aren't you gonna try to change my mind?" she asks, letting her voice grow husky, her mismatched eyes capturing Nina's gaze. "You must've thought you could, otherwise why'd you come in here all dressed up?" Casually, Lily flicks her fingers against Nina's loosely styled hair, then strokes them along the neckline of the blouse.

Shying back, Nina looks almost panicked, but there's nowhere for her to go, trapped against the door. Smiling wickedly, Lily whispers, "C'mon, show me you have the passion for the black swan. Give me a reason to change my decision." Nina shivers, and Lily leans in to kiss her.

She always loves the first kiss; it tells her so much. Nina's tiny shocked gasp against her mouth lets her know that, like so many others, this is the first time Nina's ever kissed a woman. The way Nina's brows draw together shows how torn her emotions are at this unexpected advance. Yet it's not wholly unwelcome, for Nina's lips are soft and responsive beneath Lily's.

At that Lily finally lets her eyes slide closed, pressing her body to Nina's and pinning her more fully against the door. It's nice, very nice indeed, and the part of her mind that never quite gets swept away by lust is rapidly calculating how far this can go. Some girls only want that first move made, and one kiss like this can end with them on their knees kissing worshipfully up the insides of Lily's thighs. She thinks it will take more than that to break Nina to her will, but then Nina's lips are already parting beneath hers, the pair of them sharing a breath…

And then Nina bites her bottom lip, _hard_. "Ow! Fuck!" Lily snarls, jerking away. No love bite, that was pure violence, and she can already feel it swelling. For an instant she sees something fierce and savage in Nina's eyes, but the expression's gone before it fully registers, leaving Nina looking petrified.

"You _bit_ me?" Lily touches her lip gingerly, and her fingertips come away bloody. Her temper rises sharply, but she curtails the urge to slap Nina across the face for her insolence. Her primary emotion at the moment is sheer shock. "I can't believe you _bit_ me! That fucking _hurts_!"

Nina looks utterly terrified by her own actions and Lily's furious response. She turns to claw at the doorknob, trying to flee. Oh hell no, she's not getting away with this, and Lily spins her roughly around, pinning her against the wall with a hand on her shoulder.

It's then, while Lily's tasting her own blood, that she realizes what just happened, and she laughs softly, anger becoming amusement. Now thoroughly confused, Nina can only stare at her with pleading eyes like a mouse begging mercy of a cat. "I'll give you that, Nina. You _did_ surprise me." She lifts her hand to Nina's face, stroking the curve of her jaw lightly. As if to herself, Lily murmurs, "You might have it in you after all. You just might."

Utterly bewildered, Nina can only watch her, silent and trembling. She doesn't know what to do; soon enough, Lily will tell her. But not today. Best to make this one last, to take her sweet time. She wants to preserve that spark of rebellion as long as she can. It's exciting, and after climbing to the top of the ballet world Lily has found the summit less stimulating than the journey to reach it.

But she can't let the bite pass unchallenged, either. "I'll think about it," she tells Nina. Her mind is made up, but she wants Nina in an agony of doubt tonight, wondering what she should've done differently. She cups Nina's cheek gently as she speaks, then lets her hand slide softly down Nina's neck.

It's almost accidental that her thumb comes to rest on the hollow at the base of Nina's throat, pressing oh so very lightly there, just enough to bring the panic back into her dancer's eyes. That spot is quite sensitive, yet there's little chance of actually cutting off her air; it's more painful than dangerous. Lily makes her voice cold when she adds, "A word to the wise, though. Be careful about biting the hand that feeds you."

After that she lets Nina escape, licking the blood from her torn lip thoughtfully. This one definitely shows promise, and Lily's looking forward to finding out just how deep Nina's good-girl act goes.


	3. Sleepless

Nina doesn't sleep at all that night, lying awake staring at the ceiling. She's unsure of herself, torn between fear and something that might be excitement. The role _could_ be hers, maybe it is, but she won't be sure until the casting is posted in the morning. And if Lily does give it to her, does that mean she owes her director something more than a kiss? Is that what she intended to do all along, and was she just lying to herself while she told herself she was dressing up simply to catch Lily's eye? In some way did she ask for what happened between them?

The thought is terrifying – and though Nina would never say it aloud, titillating too. She's never been kissed with such confidence and desire; barely been kissed at all, in fact. As wrong as it was, it felt _good_. Part of her really didn't want to stop. Another part of her, however, didn't want to be taken advantage of, didn't like the way Lily smirked at her so knowingly, and that part was the reason she bit down.

She still can't quite believe she did it. Panicked, trapped, it's more like Nina to burst into tears than to get violent. And yet after the first minute Lily seemed more intrigued than angry. That interest is probably why she didn't fire Nina on the spot, but it could also be the start of Lily asking more and more of her.

Nina's aware she probably has some kind of case for sexual harassment, but she'd never report it. One, it's too embarrassing to admit. Two, whether she wins or loses the end result will be the same: she'll forfeit the Swan Queen role. _If_ indeed she's won it at all. Three, Lily is her director, whom she's always obeyed. Her loyalty to Lily hasn't wavered in four years, and it will take more than a kiss to shake it.

Still, she has the nagging feeling that she screwed up somehow, that there was something she should've done – or something she shouldn't have – that could've ended with her getting the role and no one bleeding. She stays awake wondering … and replaying it in her mind, over and over again. Did she really send out such mixed signals? Was she _inviting_ Lily to kiss her somehow?

When she walks into the studio the next morning, the girls are already crowded around the posted casting. The usual mix of excited shrieks and disappointed groans reaches Nina's ears. And then they see her.

Instantly Nina's in the middle of the flock receiving hugs of congratulations, as if her luck is contagious. She feels almost numb inside, looking at the typed list. _Swan Queen – Nina Sayers._ The role is hers; she is the star of the new production.

The eager chatter of the other dancers is mere unintelligible noise now, and Nina lifts her eyes already knowing what she'll see. Beyond the girls is Lily, leaning against the wall with studied casualness, her slim hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Nina's heart stutters to see the little mark on her lower lip, a souvenir of yesterday she didn't even try to hide. Lily just meets her gaze, raises one eyebrow, and gives her a crooked smile and the barest nod.

Still, Nina knows how to read it. _We're on for this. Hope you can handle it, because you asked for it and now you've got it._


	4. Debut

When Lily announces the new production to the investors, she smiles and mouths all the right words at them. It's just hot air and everyone knows it, except some of the more naïve dancers. Maybe Nina is among that group, but she's so nervous Lily suspects she hasn't heard a word of the pretty speech anyway. Still, she smiles at the crowd and curtsies on cue, and that's all she needs to do. Beauty and novelty take care of the rest. All of the patrons are here to see an exquisite new girl, get a good look at her lovely face so they will know her later when they see her onstage. There's something rather seedy about their avaricious gazes, in spite of the tuxedos and expensive dresses.

But then, that's appropriate. Lily knows the history of her art. In the past, the line between ballet dancer and prostitute has been very thin indeed; both were working women in times when women didn't work, and both made their living with their bodies. Rumor has it that some companies, even in recent years, acquired wealthy patrons by giving them access to the young, beautiful ballerinas. Lily herself knows all too well how easily dancers are taken advantage of. Not for nothing does she refer to debuting a new star as 'throwing her to the wolves'. Every eye in the place is on Nina, and all of them want to devour.

Lily guides her around and introduces her to the right people. The white dress Nina's wearing bares her back, and Lily takes every opportunity to rest her hand there. At first Nina almost flinches from the contact, but as time passes and the level of champagne in her glass falls, she grows accustomed to it. Lily makes no remark whatsoever about it. Not only is she taming Nina to accept her touch, she's also demonstrating to all the investors that this girl is _hers_.

Some of them already know how she operates; she and Beth were not always subtle, and there have been others besides the company's star. All of the girls – and boys, too – vie for the director's attention, all of them court her favor, and Lily sits at the center of the web spinning them all around her. The company is a hothouse of desires and rivalries, which Lily keeps carefully in tune. Most of the patrons, however, accept the façade of sisterly affection and pretend that the company is one big happy family. Lily knows them all, knows what it will take to open each wallet, which egos to stroke in introducing Nina, which to banter playfully with, which to flirt with. This is her game, and she's damn good at it.

The crowd is making Nina nervous, and Lily lets her escape a moment. Without the lovely young dancer to manage, she can look after the rest of the company. All of them are soon accounted for, the boys behaving chivalrously, the girls scattered among the investors like bright flowers in a field of tuxedos. All seems well in Lily's kingdom, everything running according to plan … but Beth is nowhere to be seen.

That's not entirely unexpected, considering that the party has an open bar, and Lily goes to search for her there. When she doesn't find Beth hovering near the alcohol, she begins to grow worried. Beth has always been emotionally fragile, a classic example of artistic temperament. She hasn't been taking her aging and replacement well, railing against the inevitable march of time. It's more drama than Lily needs, and she makes another round of the party with growing frustration. Where the hell is Beth?

Ultimately she has to abandon the search, leaving Beth to her own devices. Lily knows she'll regret it later, but dammit, she's a director, not a babysitter. It's Nina she has to keep an eye on now, her budding young star. She catches Nina just leaving the ladies' room and sweeps her back into the party, pressing a fresh glass of champagne into her hand.

It's late when they can finally leave, and Lily walks Nina out, helping her with her coat. "Come by my place first," Lily says casually. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Um, okay," Nina says shyly, and then one of the damn patrons just _can't_ let go, calling to Lily from the doorway. She leaves Nina for no more than a minute, and returns to the sound of ugly, drunken laughter.

"Already?" Beth sneers at a frightened-looking Nina. "She moves quick, doesn't she? Watch out, Nina. She's a vampire; she'll suck the life out of you and leave you hollow. She doesn't care about you at all…"

"Beth, enough," Lily says, her voice low and serious. Beth wheels on her, and her eyes are bloodshot already, her gait unsteady. She's drunk and disheveled, probably snuck off somewhere with an investor. As long as it wasn't the back of the company limo, fine. This sort of thing has been happening a lot lately, and Lily knows why: Beth's trying to make her jealous. Unfortunately for Beth, that never works.

Beth glares at Lily with her chin lifted. She's a tragic figure, and sadly she's just smart enough to realize it; the remnants of her beauty and passion are still visible in the ruins of what she's become. Lily takes her arm and pulls her away from Nina. "Stop this, Beth. You're embarrassing yourself."

"What do you care?" Beth snarls back. "You don't give a damn about me; all you care about is this." She sweeps her arm through an arc that encompasses the party, the company, the world of ballet in general, and the wine in her glass splashes out onto the tiled floor at the gesture.

Lily grabs her wrist to keep her from dropping the glass and shattering it. "Beth. _Beth_. You're drunk. You need to go home and sleep this off. You'll feel better in the morning. Things will look better when you're not seeing them through the bottom of a wine glass."

Beth's face crumples, but she's not done yet. "Are you fucking her yet, Lily? Is that how she got my role? Did she get on her knees in your office and beg for the lead?"

That's the last damn thing Lily needs right now, and she grabs Beth's shoulders, her temper flaring. Fortunately she stops short of shaking some sense into her. "Beth, you're imagining things. I'm not playing this game anymore, I told you. Go home, sober up, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Beth's lip trembles, and she grabs the lapel of Lily's coat. Her voice turns pleading, and she seems about to cry. "You're just gonna leave me here, are you? Leave me and bring _her_ home with you. You've got champagne in the refrigerator and satin sheets on your bed already, don't you?"

"No," Lily tells her, softening. The only way to deal with Beth's paranoia and jealousy is to make her think she's still special. Lily's been trying to sever ties, but she can't afford a public confrontation like this, so she smoothes it over instead. "No, Beth. This is business, not pleasure. Besides, no one could compare to you, princess."

That works, finally, and the reassurance soothes Beth until Lily can escape her clutches. Hopefully Nina didn't hear too much of that. By the startled look in her eyes, though, she caught some of it. Damn Beth and her possessiveness! "Let's go," Lily says gently, and leads Nina to the company limo.

When Nina gets in and slides over, Lily sits down beside her just a _little_ too close for comfort. She angles herself sideways so her knee is almost touching Nina's, and sighs sadly. "Poor Beth. When she drinks, she gets a little … delusional. Don't pay her any mind."

Nina glances down timidly, nodding, and Lily places a careful hand on her knee, pretending not to hear Nina's little gasp of surprise. "Beth means well, and she is a lovely dancer, but it's hard for her. It's hard for anyone to face the end of their career. I'd know. Mine came to an abrupt end; maybe it's cleaner that way, better than lingering on until your fame fades away."

"What happened?" Nina asks.

This is perfect, creating curiosity, trading little confidences, and Lily glances down as if she's about to surrender a great secret. "Well, honestly, I broke my ankle. I woke up in the hospital to hear I'd never dance _en pointe_ again. Goodbye, dream. Goodbye, career. Goodbye, stardom." She sighs heavily, as if all that wasn't far behind her, as if she hasn't come up in the world since then.

Nina looks at her with a mix of sympathy and compassion, and Lily has to look out the window to hide her smile. The bait's taken, the hook's set, now all she has to do is reel in her conquest.


	5. Advice

…

Nina has no idea what to say to Lily's admission. She seems so lonely, looking out the window and contemplating her loss. Is this really the autocratic director of the New York City Ballet, always so cool and competent? Or is this just Lily, the woman? Nina's not sure whether she should react as an employee to her boss, an athlete to her coach, an artist to her mentor, or just as one dancer to another. Lily is all of that and more to her.

Gently she places her hand atop Lily's and laces their fingers together. Lily turns back to look at her, her darkly-lined eyes curious, appraising. Nina gives her a compassionate look, a small smile, trying to let her know she's not alone. "That's terrible, Lily. I don't know how I'd react if something like that happened to me. It just shows how strong you are, though, that you got through it and ended up here." And having said that, Nina lifts Lily's hand in hers, gives a sympathetic little squeeze … and puts their linked hands down on the seat of the limo instead of her leg.

A brief smile flickers over Lily's features as she returns the squeeze, and she pauses before answering. "I wasn't always this strong, Nina. Life made me strong; it was either that or break down, and I was too stubborn to break. Challenges make us who we are. Courage, determination, passion, all of it has to be exercised to be developed. If you never face fear or setbacks and overcome them, you'll never reach your true potential."

Maybe that's why Lily is so demanding of her dancers. It's an intriguing thought, one that occupies Nina's mind until they arrive at Lily's apartment. The moment they step through the door, Lily kicks off her high heels with a sigh of relief, and takes down her hair, running her fingers through it. "Make yourself at home," she tells Nina, tipping her head toward the living room ahead.

Faint alarm ripples through Nina. Lily is beautiful, breathtakingly gorgeous with her hair mussed, padding barefoot toward what must be the kitchen. "I can't stay long," Nina says, sidling into the room. It's dominated by a grand piano, and the furniture is sleek, ultra-modern. "My mother will worry."

"Why would she? You're with me," Lily replies from the kitchen. "Chardonnay or pinot grigio?"

"I really shouldn't," Nina frets. "I had champagne at the reception."

"Half a glass won't hurt," Lily calls back. "The chardonnay, I think." She reappears a moment later with two scant glasses and a bottle of pale golden wine, and smiles at Nina in a way that makes her chest feel tight. The dancer takes her glass and sits demurely on the couch, Lily taking the space beside her and leaning against the backrest. Nina smiles nervously as Lily pours the wine and then clinks their glasses together. "To our future."

"To the company's future," Nina replies, and sips her wine. It's delicate and light, not tasting like alcohol at all, quite unlike the dry champagne they were drinking earlier.

Lily crosses her legs, her black dress riding up a bit when she does it, and stretches one arm along the back of the couch behind Nina. "I don't want there to be any walls between us, Nina. You're set to become the new principal dancer, and that means I'll have to choose productions to showcase your particular skills. You'll be working more one-on-one with me as well. So we may as well be comfortable in each other's company."

Those faint alarms are ringing louder, but Nina silences them. Lily's perfectly right, of course. It's only logical for the director and the star (her? Really? Lily thinks she's good enough to be the principal soloist?) to work closely together. But that kiss in the office the other day still worries her. Lily's been nothing but professional since, never once mentioned the incident, but it still gnaws at Nina's mind. What, exactly, did it mean in the larger scheme of things?

"So tell me, Nina," Lily says. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," Nina replies hesitantly, as those alarms ratchet up even louder.

"A girlfriend?"

Nina's cheeks burn as she turns away. "N-no."

Lily takes a sip of her wine, looking at Nina steadily over the rim of the glass. Nina can't quite bear to meet her gaze, though. 'No walls between us' is one thing, but this is much more personal than Nina's comfortable with.

"Are you a virgin?" Lily asks in the same matter-of-fact tone, and Nina blushes even more fiercely.

"No," she lies, her eyes fixed on the hardwood floor.

"Nina." Lily speaks softly, but there's just a hint of command in her tone, enough to make Nina look up. "I ask because the black swan is a very sensual role, and I've never seen that in you. I know how I want it danced; I've done it myself." She smiles, her eyes going distant, and Nina realizes she's never seen Lily dance. She must have been glorious.

Lily grins, coming back to the present. "Me, now, I was perfect for the black swan. It was the white swan I had trouble with. Like I said, the black swan's a sensual role, and I have no problems projecting that. Hell, that's the first thing anyone wonders when they look at me: what I'm like in bed, what it would be like to fuck me."

Nina blushes again at that casual coarseness; Lily has a fairly relaxed attitude to language that can be blistering to more proper listeners. It has nothing at all to do with what she just said, and everything to do with how she said it. Or so Nina tells herself, sipping her wine so she doesn't have to look at the way Lily's hair curls against her neck.

Lily polishes off her wine and tops up both of their glasses. "I think, though, it's going to be a major challenge for you to find that in yourself and to express it onstage. And that worries me, Nina. You've got the white swan; you could do that in your sleep, and the audience would fawn over you. But the black one, well … I've never even seen you wear black, you know that?"

It's true. Nina prefers lighter colors, whereas Lily wears almost exclusively dark clothes, especially black like the dress now clinging sinfully close to her curves. Lily continues, "It's as if you don't have an ounce of darkness in your soul, and that can't be true. No one is that perfectly pure. Besides, I know better. You _do_ have some bite to you. We just have to figure out how to bring that to the fore."

Nina looks at her wide-eyed and wary, and Lily just raises one eyebrow slightly. God, she's finally made a reference to the other day, and Nina wants to run and hide from the expectant look in Lily's eyes. "Lily, I … I don't know … what happened, where that came from…"

Lily places a finger across Nina's lips to silence her. The director leans in close, so close Nina thinks it's going to be another kiss, and mere inches away from her mouth Lily whispers, "Then find out." She strokes the curve of Nina's jaw once before letting her hand come to rest on Nina's knee. Invading her personal space again, so close…

Nina takes a shuddering breath; the invitation is clear. But does she really want this, does she really want to kiss her boss? Lily's lips look so inviting, and her mismatched eyes are steady, daring Nina.

Part of her wants to. Most of her cringes. No matter how magnetic the attraction, no matter how heatedly she remembers the forbidden sweetness of that other kiss, some lines simply are not meant to be crossed. Nina closes her eyes and turns away from temptation, but there's no escape short of bolting up off the sofa, and she's too _polite_ for that.

And Lily laughs, soft and wicked. "Well. I suppose I ought to let you leave; it's getting late, and I can't have you shorting your sleep. But … hmm, I'll give you a homework assignment, Nina. For the black swan."

Nina looks back at her, confused by how easily Lily let that go. Then Lily's hand on her knee tightens just a little, and Nina tenses. She crossed her legs demurely when she sat down but that doesn't stop Lily from sliding her palm slowly up Nina's thigh. "Tonight, go home … and touch yourself."

She ends it with her hand under the skirt, so high on Nina's leg that the implication can't be missed. Nina can only stare at her, eyes wide, heart racing. For a long moment they simply look at each other, and then Lily pulls her hand away with a tantalizing little drag of her nails against Nina's skin. "C'mon, finish your wine and I'll call you a cab," Lily says, as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

Nina's left trying to gather her scattered wits, her skin hot and tingling where Lily just touched her. Part of her wants to put this aside like the kiss, pretend it never happened unless Lily brings it up.

Part of her – growing in strength – knows she's going to take Lily's advice as soon as she can.


	6. Accident

The morning after Nina's debut is not a good one. Lily has news for the company, and she hates making announcements like this. Morale always nosedives, but she can't keep something of this magnitude a secret, not when the papers will be reporting it. So she calls the company together to tell them Beth is in the hospital after being struck by a car.

Nina's the quickest, realizing that Beth must've done it while Nina was at Lily's apartment. It's partly guilt that moves her to ask, "Is she going to be okay?"

Lily sighs. "They don't know yet. She's expected to recover, but…" No more needs to be said. Beth has ended her career as dramatically as possible; typical of her. She'd rather go out with a bang than a whimper. Fortunately scandal is just another kind of publicity, and Lily manages to sound appropriately concerned and sad when she talks about Beth. She has to maintain that familial image with her dancers as well as the investors and the public.

Still, it's more stress than she needs, something Beth has been from the beginning. But she was so very good, brilliant onstage, far more cunning than Lily expected offstage. Without her Lily might not have been able to turn the company profitable in her first year as director. Hell, without her she might not have gained control of the company at all for another five years. Fortunately Beth knew all of Thomas Leroy's secrets; she'd been sleeping with him, too.

When Lily took the choreographer's job, she'd seduced the director's pet mostly out of revenge for Thomas' attempts to woo her. Beth had been surprisingly easy to seduce, at that. Once the two women decided to dethrone Thomas, his days as director were numbered. Lily even managed to give a very quotable speech to some reporter about how so many directors were like Thomas, objectifying and exploiting their charges, and it was time for a different style of management, a woman's hand on the steering wheel to guide the New York City Ballet into the twenty-first century.

Such bullshit. Darwin was right, only the fittest survived in this world, and they did so by taking advantage of those weaker than themselves. And Lily was anything but weak. In the beginning Beth thought _she_ was the one in charge of their partnership, and Lily let her believe so for a while, but eventually she taught Beth who was really running the show. And ever since then Beth had been extravagantly needy. She'd even professed, once or twice, to _love_ Lily.

What a fool. There's no room for love in a business partnership like this. Lily will do anything for the sake of the company, true, but there are limits. Especially now that Beth's becoming a liability as well as an annoyance. Maybe it's for the best, what she did. It's at least the fifth time Lily's told herself that.

After the meeting, when the rest of the girls leave, Nina lingers. Lily tips her head in the direction of her office, and Nina follows her. Interesting, her attempts to increase the connection and intimacy between them must be working. Once the door closes, Nina asks, "Are _you_ all right?"

"I will be," Lily replies, and unlocks her desk drawer. Several pill bottles lie next to a bottle of spring water and a flask of emergency vodka; she chooses Xanax this time, and washes it down with water rather than let Nina see her drinking at work. "You know, Nina, the hell of it is, I'm almost certain she did it on purpose."

"She was very drunk," Nina demurs.

"Not drunk enough to fall in front of a car," Lily sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Nina, I know you've always admired Beth, but … she's never been the most stable person. Many artists aren't. It seems like part of what makes us great also leaves us vulnerable to such things."

For a long moment Nina doesn't reply, and then she looks seriously at Lily. "If you need anything … if I can help … just let me know."

Lily grins. It would be too easy to tell her to lock the door and get over here. Instead she simply replies, "Be magnificent for me, Nina. Be the Swan Queen I know you can be. That's all I want."

Nina nods gracefully, and with one last look she leaves. Only then does Lily take a sip of the vodka. Damn Beth. Why couldn't she accept fate? Why did she always have to fight against the way things are and have always been? And why, when it finally became clear to her that nothing she did could turn back time, why did she have to destroy herself?

There's an ache in her chest at that, the idea that Beth might not pull through. Lily quickly drowns it with vodka. The director of the best-known ballet company in the country simply cannot afford to be sentimental.


	7. Practice

A week of intense practice later and Nina's getting more nervous by the minute. Lily is sitting in front of the mirrors in the small practice room, watching Nina and David attempt the black swan. David's role as the prince isn't that difficult; he mostly exists to showcase Nina. But Lily looks annoyed … and bored. That's a very bad combination, and anxiety makes Nina brittle. She strives for the smoothness Lily asked for, but every muscle aches with tension.

Nina knows it's going to be bad by the expression on Lily's face, as if her director is mere seconds from giving up and casting someone else. She just doesn't know how bad it will be. Lily sighs heavily and looks at the male dancer. "David, lemme ask you a question. Be honest. Would you fuck that girl?"

He gives a nervous chuckle, and Nina's whole body winces. Lily just shakes her head and stands up, striding toward them. "I didn't think so. Neither would I. Look, Nina, your dancing…"

That's when the lights go out, and Lily's temper flares. "_Motherfucker!_" she snarls, and heads for the door. "Hey! We're still working here! Lights, please!" When there's no immediate response, Lily whistles sharply and claps her hands. "Lights, goddammit! Seriously, are you even fucking paying attention?"

A muttered, "Sorry" from somewhere above, and the lights come back on, revealing a director pushed far past her patience. Lily shouts her sardonic thanks and then whirls on them all, seeing the expressions on her dancers' faces.

She sighs and rakes her hands through her hair, the gesture Nina is coming to realize shows her frustration most clearly. "Okay, guys, you can go. Thank you for your patience. See you tomorrow." But when Nina starts to turn away, Lily snaps her fingers and points at her, mismatched eyes stormy. "Not you. You'll stay."

As David and the pianist leave, Nina turns away from Lily, trying to maintain her composure. This is going to be awful, if Lily doesn't want witnesses; she'll bite off anyone's head in front of anyone else, even the most senior soloists aren't exempt from a cursing-out if Lily feels one is deserved, and if she wants to speak to Nina alone it must be even more horrible than the worst tongue-lashing she's ever dealt out publicly.

But instead of vitriol, Lily calls Nina to her, takes her hand and pulls her close. "C'mere, I'll be the prince." It's so very strange to practice this with Lily, but Nina goes with it, anything to avoid the scathing she knows she deserves. They dance a moment, faking the lifts, and Lily's off the beat, slowing the tempo as she crosses both of their arms over Nina's chest.

Nina hesitates, but Lily murmurs, "Let it go, relax," and a moment later Nina's bending fluidly backward over Lily's arm. "Better," Lily whispers, guiding her through a turn. Nina steps away, leaving her hand outstretched, and Lily catches her fingers, brings them to her mouth for a kiss.

Alarms are going off in Nina's mind again. That's not in the script, and she pulls her hand away, but Lily's graceful steps bring her to Nina's side again, and they're still dancing. Every time Nina moves away, Lily brings her back, a tug on her hand to spin her closer, and Nina's heart is hammering. There's something more than dance going on, more than choreographed steps, a darkness in Lily's eyes that fills her with apprehension.

Nina leans her head back against Lily's shoulder, lifts her working leg to a perfect _attitude en avant_, and to her shock feels Lily's hand slide along the back of her thigh. She gasps, eyes going wide, and Lily murmurs, "Let _go_, Nina, just flow with it."

Nina comes back down, turns toward Lily, and the director moves in close. So that's what they're up to today, more seduction, and Nina's heart quickens with equal measures of anticipation and dismay. Some strange part of her, something that does not care about the fact that this is her _boss_, abruptly shoves Lily away. Nina is as astonished by the boldness as by the wrath she felt for that single instant. What's _wrong_ with her?

Fury flickers like lightning in Lily's eyes, just for a second, before she grabs Nina's hand and yanks her back, kissing her. Nina's frozen with disbelief until Lily draws back, looking at her with obvious demand in her gaze. Nina can't refuse her, never has, and she submits to the insistent kiss.

She's still holding herself aloof, her heart hammering at the feel of Lily's mouth on hers, taking this but giving nothing back. Then Lily nips her lip just slightly, a quick burst of pain that makes Nina gasp. All of a sudden Lily's invading her mouth, their tongues dancing, and the ice Nina keeps between herself and the rest of the world melts in a flash of pure heat. God, her lips are so soft, her mouth tastes sweet, and now Nina surrenders willingly.

Nina's kissing Lily now, whimpering against her mouth, one hand twining into Lily's dark hair to keep her close. And Lily's hands are busy too, stroking her sides, cupping her breasts, kneading them, making Nina moan softly. When one hand slides down between her thighs, Nina gives a little wanton cry, rising _en pointe_ as Lily touches her. Lily growls hungrily against her mouth, her tongue stroking in time with her fingers rubbing below, and Nina's on the verge of coming apart from that alone. Fully clothed still, but Lily can surely feel the wetness through her tights, and she wants it, Nina wants it so much, her entire body aches for more.

The pressure of Lily's hand, right where she needs it most, sends shockwaves of lust through Nina's body. Dear God that's so good, like nothing she's ever felt before, not even during her attempts to complete her homework assignment. Something within Nina rises, trembling, desperate to break free of her flesh, and she kisses Lily ardently, her hand tightening on her director's hair. If she could speak she would beg for more, beg Lily to take her down onto the floor of the practice room even though the door is still open, strip down to the skin and offer herself completely…

Abruptly Lily takes her hand away, pulls back from Nina's mouth, and for an instant they hover just a breath apart. Lily's eyes are cold and serious, completely alien, as if this was only an exercise for her, as if it meant nothing. Panting, Nina stares at her in confusion, the ache between her thighs pure torture.

And then Lily steps back. "That was me seducing you," she says coolly. "I need it to be the other way around." She turns to leave, and all of the shame and doubt comes crashing back into Nina. It wasn't real at all, just another means to an end, another manipulation. Worse than the scathing rebuke she expected, Lily's broken her open and held Nina's beating heart in her hands, only to cast it aside and tell her she isn't good enough.

As the door closes behind Lily, Nina all but collapses, sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Worst of all, worse than knowing she failed as a dancer and failed to see the seduction for what it was, is the heat still boiling through her veins. Even knowing Lily was just making a point, just showing her explicitly how she wants her to play the role, Nina can't slow her racing pulse or cool her fevered skin.

She sits, alone, for an hour or more before she can regain enough composure to find her way home.


	8. Alternate

It seems like Lily's made her point; there's a new fluidity, a new yearning in Nina, but only when she knows Lily's watching her. When she practices she's as coldly perfect as ever, but when she dances under Lily's gaze her passion burns brightly.

It's not enough. Nowhere near enough, and the opening night of the ballet is closer with each day's practice. Lily's going to have to turn up the heat to get the performance she wants from Nina.

She's reluctant to do so, though, because Nina's showing disturbing signs of fragility. Lately Nina has become paranoid, shying from her own shadow, watching the other girls warily. Of course they're all jealous of her, and Lily's certain that whispered accusations have been made. They always are. There's always a few in the company willing to believe the prima ballerina got her spot by fucking the director.

The point gets driven home after practice while Lily's heading for her office, trying to decide who should be Nina's alternate. No one else is as perfect as Nina, no one ever could be, and what Lily really wants is a dancer like herself, someone who embodies the black swan. The contrast and competition would be useful. But the company doesn't have a dancer of her own style at the moment.

"Lily? Can I speak to you for a moment?" That's Veronica, who comes as close to being like Lily as anyone does. She's incredibly beautiful, with those ice-blue eyes and that jet-black hair, but there's a coldness and a sharpness to her that speaks of absolute self-interest. A born survivor who can take care of herself, and Lily respects that even if she has _no_ patience for the kind of petty snobbery Veronica indulges in.

"Sure, come in," Lily says, dropping her mail onto her desk and letting it fan out in the process. It looks like a good day – more envelopes from donors than bills.

"I was wondering who you had in mind for Nina's alternate," Veronica says, and her voice has become a purr.

Forewarned by that, Lily doesn't sit down, just leans her hip against her desk as she turns to look at Veronica. "I was just thinking about that myself, as a matter of fact," she says, crossing her arms.

"Maybe I can help you with that decision," Veronica says, twirling a strand of her hair around her fingers. She mirrors Lily's pose, leaning against the desk a little closer than normal conversational distance, and the blouse she's wearing is low-cut.

_Not this again,_ Lily thinks. It was cute when Nina tried to seduce her way into a part, mainly because she was so clearly inexperienced at it. But Veronica has a cynical edge to her that's just too bitter for Lily's taste. "How exactly were you planning to accomplish that?" she asks, keeping her voice cool.

"You could always make _me_ the alternate," Veronica replies, her voice even lower, and she shifts her weight, canting her hips at an angle that accentuates her curves.

"I suppose you have a good reason for me to do that?" Lily says, sounding bored. That's Veronica's warning, but she doesn't heed it.

Instead the girl releases the lock of her hair, and her hand drops to the neck of her blouse. "I can think of one," she murmurs, unbuttoning the top button, and then the next. "Or two."

Lily takes a step forward, leaning in close. Veronica closes her eyes and tilts her head for a kiss, but the smile on her lips is predatory. It would be so easy to fuck this girl, and she _is_ gorgeous. But it's _too_ easy, Veronica's willing to whore herself for a part – not even a part, an _alternate_ – and that makes it no challenge at all. Still, Lily's between lovers at the moment, so she's tempted.

"You want to dance the swan queen for me that much, hmm?" Lily whispers huskily, a breath away from Veronica's lips, one arm snaking around her waist.

"Yeah," Veronica whispers back, and there's not an ounce of true passion or desire in her voice, only ambition. She moves to kiss Lily, but the director pulls back, glaring her down, and Veronica lowers her eyes in submission. Instead, she turns her head and bares her throat. Oh, she's studied this, figured out why Beth so often wears scarves. Not for nothing did the older dancer call Lily a vampire.

It's just too tempting to ignore, and Lily kisses her neck, licking her skin. Veronica tastes sharply of perfume, but that doesn't stop Lily from letting her teeth frame the girl's pulse. Not hard, not enough to mark, just enough to hurt a little. Veronica gasps then, the first genuine emotion in the whole encounter: fear.

Good. She should be afraid; maybe that'll knock some sense into her. Lily nuzzles up to her ear and whispers seductively, "You want me to make you Nina's alternate?"

"Yes," Veronica whispers, and she's been unbuttoning the blouse the rest of the way this whole time, baring a lacy red bra. It looks damn good against her pale skin, and Lily knows with absolute certainty she could have it off in a minute or less, have Veronica back across her desk trying not to moan aloud if she wanted to.

Lily smiles, letting Veronica feel it against her skin. In the same husky voice she murmurs, "Then lose five pounds and practice until you're half as good as Nina is. I'll consider it then, and not a moment before." With that she abruptly steps away, leaving Veronica staring at her in stupefied fury.

She just grins evilly. Teaching the manipulative little brat a lesson is much more fun than fucking her ever could be. "Talent decides who gets the roles, Veronica. Nothing else. Now get out of my office, I have work to do."

As a flustered Veronica exits while trying to button up her shirt, Lily calmly starts slitting open her mail and going through it. Her calculatingly cold behavior dims once the door closes, though, and Lily sighs, dropping the envelopes and the letter opener to her desktop. Dammit, in spite of herself that _did_ get to her, mostly because of the reminder of Nina.

Sweet Nina. Lily licks her lip where the mark Nina left used to be, and thinks of how hungrily Nina kissed her the other day when they danced together. Perhaps it's time to give her a little more encouragement, maybe even leave a mark of her own. The mail can wait until later.


	9. Hallucination

**For evilmojojojo, who cannot wait for the next update. And also because I forgot to post Friday. ;)**

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><p>Nina's in the middle of brushing out her hair when it happens. She turns her head to the side, letting the brush glide through the silken strands, and out of the corner of her eye she sees movement in the mirror. She turns and sees only her own reflection, but something seems … off.<p>

The same thing happens each time she stops looking directly at the mirror, and Nina begins to suspect that her reflection isn't precisely mirroring her moves when she's not paying attention. It's a crazy thought, but she can't deny the evidence of her senses. Just what the heck is going on?

When Lily opens the door and walks in without bothering to knock, it startles Nina so badly she almost leaps out of her seat. "Easy, Nina, it's just me," Lily purrs soothingly, placing a comforting hand on Nina's shoulder. "Are you all right, sweetheart?"

Nina completely misses the endearment, still shaking from surprise. "I'm fine, I just… I think someone's maybe playing a trick on me." That must be it, a trick of the lighting making it _look _like her reflection's moving when she isn't, and some of the other girls wouldn't be above messing with the lights to try and unbalance Nina.

"If they are, I'll put a stop to it," Lily promises, her voice low and quiet. She squeezes Nina's shoulder slightly and makes a disapproving sound. "You're so tense, Nina. Relax. I'll take care of you."

Ironically that makes her muscles tighten even more with apprehension, but then Lily's hands are kneading the tension away. Her touch is warm even through the leotard, and Nina sighs, letting herself start to relax at last.

Lily knows what she's doing, working her way up to the nape of Nina's neck and squeezing the taut muscles there. "Better?" she murmurs, her thumbs rubbing away the soreness at the top of Nina's spine.

"Mmmm," Nina sighs, leaning into the caress. Lily drops back down to her shoulders, finding every knot of anxiety and smoothing it away. God, that feels so good. But then, Lily's hands have always felt good on her…

As Nina's thinking that, remembering their after-hours 'practice' that left her shaking with desire, Lily slides her hands down even further, cupping her breasts. Nina's eyes fly open to see her director grinning wickedly in the mirror, thumbs rubbing slowly over Nina's nipples.

But when she looks down at her chest, Lily's hands are only at her collarbone. Fear ripples along her spine; when she looks in the mirror she can see and _feel_ the touch at her breasts, even though Lily's hands aren't there. What's going on?

Lily drags her fingertips upward along Nina's throat, tilting her head back, and Nina lets her eyes slip closed. It doesn't matter whether it's real or illusion, she can't deny that it feels good, that she doesn't want it to stop. She sighs as Lily strokes her neck before returning to the massage; her whole body is loosening up under Lily's ministrations. At the same time a tingle of anticipation has started running down her spine, wondering just what Lily intends.

It's so much easier just to close her eyes and let things happen. Lily prompts her to lean forward a little, and works on her back for a while, spreading the warmth of her touch further throughout Nina's body. Nina feels almost hypnotized, strangely disconnected from everything except Lily's hands. Nothing else matters in her drowsy, accepting state.

Lily brings her back upright, stroking her neck gently. "Much better, Nina," she whispers, her breath tickling the dancer's ear. Nina smiles faintly; she feels divine. "You really should take the time to relax more often," Lily murmurs, and kisses Nina's neck. Reality or fantasy? Nina doesn't know, doesn't want to open her eyes and find out, so instead she simply tilts her head away to let Lily kiss her again.

Slowly, so slowly, she kisses down to Nina's shoulder. Lily's lips are so very soft against Nina's skin, like warm silk caressing her neck as she works her way back up again to the tender place behind Nina's ear. "Tell me, Nina," Lily purrs, "did you ever finish that homework assignment?"

The hazy warm glow she's sunk in is the only thing that keeps Nina from blushing furiously. Even so, her cheeks are turning pink when she murmurs back, "No. I … haven't had time…"

"Make time," Lily insists, and squeezes her shoulders gently. "It would be a good way to relieve your tension, _and_ get in touch with the side of yourself that you need for the black swan."

Embarrassment at discussing this starts to bring Nina out of the trance she's been in, and she only nods in response. And then Lily's tongue flicks out to trace the line of Nina's ear, and she murmurs huskily, "If it helps … think of me."

Nina gasps at that, her eyes flying open. She catches Lily in the act of pulling away, a smug little smile on her full lips. More teasing, and part of Nina trembles with unfulfilled need even while part of her shivers at what it might mean for the future. Still another part of her, something darker that came sliding out of the back of her mind once she let down her guard, decides not to let Lily get away with it. It's that darkness in her that has Nina grabbing a fistful of Lily's blouse and pulling her director back down with greedy strength neither of them knew she had. Her lips crash into Lily's hungrily, feasting on the other woman's mouth in a deep, thorough kiss.

After an instant's shock, Lily goes with it. She returns the kiss just as passionately, and Nina moans against her mouth. The darkness in her isn't satisfied until she's kissed Lily breathless, until she pulls back to hear her director panting harshly with the same lust that burns through her own body. Then that bold and forceful side of Nina disappears, leaving her stunned by what she just did.

And it's then, while Nina's marveling at her own audacity, that Lily leans back in for the _coup de grace_. Before Nina can react Lily's mouth is on her neck, and it feels so wickedly good that the dancer doesn't even try to stop her. Lily's licking and sucking at the sensitive skin, making Nina shiver, and then her teeth close on Nina's delicate neck just once. Nina gasps at the unexpected bite, and Lily pulls away. They're both wild-eyed and disheveled now.

Lily only smiles, her mismatched eyes agleam with wickedness. "Keep surprising me, Nina," her sultry voice murmurs. "This production of _Swan Lake_ may be the company's best yet." With that she's gone, leaving Nina with only the heat in her blood and the bite mark on her throat to prove any of it was real.


	10. StandIn

**Author's Notes:** Sorry this took so long. Real life intervened - I am so stressed out right now, you guys. Everything's just happening at once. I'll try to keep updating more often.

Het warning, this chapter only. It's downplayed but it's there. Also, if you're enjoying this story, please review. I always reply to reviews, and I really love reading them – sometimes they even inspire plot twists.

…

Well, _that_ didn't go as planned. Lily had meant to tease Nina just a little, just enough to sate her own hunger. She knows herself well; power will do as much for her as sex, most times, and often manipulation is more fun than seduction.

This is no longer one of those times. That last kiss, so damn insistent and so very unlike the usual Nina, got to Lily more than she wants to admit. Now she aches with the need to strip Nina down and make her plead for release, make her scream Lily's name at the height of her pleasure, and then make her beg for the chance to return the favor. _That_ would be perfect satisfaction, power and lust, but she can't, not yet. Nina's still too fragile, she'll shatter under too much pressure, and Lily needs her to be strong enough to dance the Swan Queen. The company comes first, always.

If she can't have Nina, then she'll find someone else. Not within the company, though. Lily's desire has reached the point where it could be perceived as weakness, and she won't let herself be anything but completely in control with her employees. Tonight she just wants to fuck someone she's never seen before and with a little luck will never see again, do it rough and wild until she forgets about how much she enjoyed Nina getting the upper hand for a second.

So Lily goes out clubbing. She doesn't even need to change; these days she tends to haunt clubs a bit up-market from the kinds of places she hung out in her youth, and her daily clothes are dressy enough to get her in the door with no cover charge. Lily remembers those wild days fondly, but she wouldn't quite fit in with the same crowd now. She's grown too calculating, too careful, for the reckless world she used to inhabit. It's not precisely paradise lost, but nostalgia is another thing Lily cannot afford, and she shoves it aside as she goes out on the prowl.

She finds a promising-looking club and takes to the dance floor, eyeing the people who watch her. Lily is fairly equally split in her attraction to both sexes, but tonight she wants something to take the taste of Nina out of her mouth, so she smiles back at the men who admire her. She only wants one thing, so she waits for them to approach her, playing along with their attempts to seduce her. It's easy for her, that way, to simply make her choice and let him think he's won her.

Lily has several options to choose from, as always, but only one seems really promising. He's dark-haired and dark-eyed, assured of himself; he just buys her a drink and gives her a smile to go with it. "So what're you doing here tonight, gorgeous?" he asks, as if he's the bar owner trying to schmooze with a regular.

"Dancing and drinking," Lily replies. "And trying to forget someone."

"Oh yeah? What'd he do to you that you want to forget him?"

She smiles. "It's not what she did, it's what she didn't do."

"She?" His eyebrows go up, and she can almost feel the excitement radiating off him. Knowing she sleeps with girls makes her irresistibly attractive to most men.

"I play for both teams. Not that I exactly got to the championship with her," Lily tells him, smirking. From there it's a foregone conclusion. He feels like he has to win her over for the sake of straight men everywhere, and prove that he's a better lover than the woman she's trying to forget. Lily lets him; he's just what she wants. Even better, when they dance together they mesh perfectly. That little click of rhythms syncing is the best indicator for Lily of how good someone will be in bed, and with this man whose name she's already forgotten, all the signs are good.

They're all over each other in the cab to his apartment, and he's good with his hands, knows just how to touch her. Once inside neither of them can wait, and he has her up against the wall, not even bothering to undress. Even in the grip of such powerful lust, Lily makes sure to be safe; she does this too often to be cavalier about it. Once she knows she's protected, though, she abandons herself, crying out wordlessly and clawing his back. Lily can let herself go with this stranger as she can't with her dancers; there'll be no questions later, no challenge to her authority.

After, over drinks and cigarettes, they make their way to the bedroom and get started on the second round. This time it's slower, more thorough, and Lily moans in sheer delight at the way he caresses her. "God, you're _perfect_," he growls in her ear, gripping her hips as he enters her again.

_I know,_ she thinks, but whispers back, "So're you, baby, so are you," as she wraps her legs around his waist. Perfect for what she wants, what she needs, and for a few minutes she completely forgets about Nina.

Lily might stay the night, but she'll make sure to wake before he does. She doesn't do mornings-after if she can help it; better just to go, and leave nothing of herself behind. No note, no phone number, only memories. That's how she prefers it, with everyone except her dancers. With them, things tend to get more … complicated.


	11. Homework

**Author's Note:** Since you waited so long, have a second chapter. Also something to take the het scene off your mind. *wink*

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><p>That same night, on the other side of town, Nina's lying in a warm bath, the water lapping silkily against her skin. She hid the bite mark on her neck from Erica; no way could she explain that to her mother. She can barely explain it to herself.<p>

With a sigh, she lets her eyes slip closed, drifting gently in warmth and safety. She might even doze off in the bath – it's happened before – but somewhere between sleep and wakefulness Nina becomes aware of the feeling she's not alone. Someone's here with her, watching her.

Her eyes fly open, but the bathroom is empty. Nina takes a deep breath to steady herself. Just nerves, after all. She closes her eyes again and slides further down into the water.

As she does so, Nina feels something against her neck. At the same time her breasts are being stroked by an impossibly light touch. Nina jerks wide awake and upright, water running off her shoulders in rivulets. She stares wide-eyed around the bathroom, wondering what's going on.

The answer wrings a shaky laugh out of her for her own foolishness. No one touched her; she felt the water lapping against the mark on her neck. Probably it was just the ripples she felt on her chest.

Yet when she closes her eyes, she feels it again, and it doesn't feel like water. It feels … well, like the ghosts of Lily's kisses and caresses. This time Nina doesn't open her eyes to dispel the sensation. Instead she imagines Lily here with her, trailing her fingers through the water, leaning in to kiss Nina's neck.

Nina shivers at the image, her body reacting as if Lily really was here. The longer she keeps her eyes closed, the more tangible Lily's presence becomes, until Nina's convinced she _is_ here, snuck in somehow to finish what she started. Fear at the intrusion only heightens Nina's response to her touch.

_Let me finish that homework assignment for you,_ Lily's voice murmurs, and Nina stifles a gasp as Lily's hand slides down between her thighs. She has to be quiet, can't let Erica know someone else is in the house, much less what they're doing. Soon her back is arching, her body writhing, as Lily brings her quickly to the brink of ecstasy. Nina clenches her teeth on a needy cry, not making a sound, her pulse pounding loud in her ears.

And then suddenly the thunder of her heartbeat is echoed by sharp knocks on the bathroom door. "Nina, you've been in there an hour," Erica calls. "Go to bed, sweet girl."

The shock is like ice water in her veins, abruptly cooling the heat that was so close to flaring into incandescence. "Okay, Mommy," Nina manages to say, and she must not sound as incriminatingly breathless as she thinks, because Erica doesn't say another word about it.

Only then does Nina look around and see she's truly alone. The hand between her thighs is her own, and the realization that she's just been fantasizing about Lily dawns on Nina with a sense of loss.


	12. History

**Author****'****s****Note:** Sorry for the delay, again. Real life is not my friend right now. At least my father is finally done with radiation treatments, but this doesn't mean he's fully recovered. The stress on his system has left him with symptoms similar to senile dementia, from which he will hopefully recover as he regains his strength.

To reward your patience, you get a nice big chapter full of backstory. Hope you like it!

…

There's no reason she has to do this. Beth's unconscious, unlikely to wake up anytime soon, and it's not like she'll know who visited her and how often when she does finally wake up. _If_ she wakes up… But Lily refuses to contemplate that.

She's been here every day, if only for a few moments in the morning or evening. The first two flower arrangements she brought have both wilted and been replaced. Calla lilies like her tattoo, of course, because Beth will know instantly who brought them, Beth will see them and know Lily was here before she even reads the card.

For now, though, Beth sleeps, attended by machines that beep softly and display numbers and traceries of her vital signs. Lily hates hospitals, having been in them a time or two herself, and she can't bear to stay long. But she keeps coming back, keeps staring at the gaunt, wasted features of the woman who until recently shared her bed and her life, keeps opening a door to ghosts of the past.

They were so good together in the beginning. When Lily was first hired, Thomas couldn't resist her, circling around like a shark. Lily rebuffed him, of course, and set her sights on his favorite just to teach him not to mess with her. She wanted his job, ultimately, but his insistence was what convinced her to act quickly. Beth preened under her flattery, and returned Lily's affectionate hugs and kisses on the cheek. When they went out for drinks and dancing, Beth was just as flirty and forward as Lily. That had played out for a while, still mostly innocent and definitely under Thomas' radar, until Lily judged the moment was right.

And then, as they were smoking outside a club, huddled close against the chill in the air, Lily had asked if Beth had ever been with a woman. The dancer had grinned at her, her eyes feral, and replied with a purr, "Not yet." As simple as that. Lily had kissed her then, both of them tipsy and feeling wild.

They'd forgotten about going back to the club, running to catch a cab back to Lily's apartment instead. While they kissed in the backseat, Lily had whispered in Beth's ear, "Do you think Thomas will mind?"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Beth had replied, and she'd spent that night with Lily. They had many more clandestine nights together, and Lily allowed herself to be wrapped up in Beth, utterly fascinated, until the constant showering of attention and affection began to turn Beth's loyalty away from Thomas. Lily made certain never to say a word against him, even defending him when Beth claimed she was a better lover than he was; Lily just said the comparison was unfair.

It _had_ been a challenge getting Beth to reveal everything she knew about the company and its director. Lily remembered every casual remark, every whispered confidence, and began to gather information she could use to force Thomas to resign rather than face scandal. Beth had become a willing co-conspirator, especially when Thomas' interest in the younger dancers was brought to her attention.

Through it all Lily had never been anything but polite and professional toward Thomas, so the day he packed his office and she walked in, he didn't even realize why she was there for a moment. Only when she smiled and sat down in what had been _his_ chair did he growl, "It was _you_."

"_Mais__oui_," Lily had replied with a shrug. "The advisory board chose me fifteen to three."

His eyes had narrowed, and Lily had prepared for a violent outburst, verbal or physical. She wanted to savor her victory, though, see the betrayal on his face, so it was worth the risk. And then Beth had come to the door, laughing nastily at her former lover. "Better hurry up and pack, hon. Five minutes from now we'll be fucking on her new desk, whether you're still here or not. And you do _not_ want to know how much better she is than you ever were."

At his incredulous stare, Lily had just leaned back, stretched, and smiled. "You shouldn't have copped a feel the first week I was here," she'd purred, and sent him on his way. And then, yes, fucked Beth enthusiastically and loudly atop _her_ desk.

Their best years together had been those first few after ousting Thomas. Working all day at the studio, perfecting each new production, feeding off each other's passion for dance, inspiring each other to new heights of creativity. And then all night at Lily's apartment or Beth's, indulging other passions. There was nothing Beth wouldn't do if Lily suggested it, and the nights were fevered, lust blazing bright as a bonfire. For a long time Beth had been everything Lily needed.

The memory of those days makes her chest feel tight. Lily strokes Beth's limp hair off her bandaged forehead. "Why?" she whispers, as she has at least once a visit. There's still no answer, but she thinks she knows.

She told Beth in the beginning she wasn't looking for love, just for fun and friendship, a partner in the studio and the bedroom. No emotion stronger than fondness, no exclusivity, none of that. For a long time it seemed like that's what they had. But Beth started to grow possessive, jealous of attention paid to the younger dancers, even jealous of the men and women Lily met in clubs. She _knew_ better, Lily had warned her repeatedly that commitment wasn't her style, but it turned out Beth was just fool enough to think she could change Lily.

And when she learned she couldn't, well, the worst aspects of her high-strung artistic personality came to the fore. Beth acted out, drank more, seduced dozens of lovers in an attempt to make Lily jealous of what she was missing. Instead Lily felt relieved of the burden of dealing with her, and sought more distance between them.

Yet here she is. Beth has her complete attention now, for a few moments at least. All she'd had to do to get it was nearly kill herself. "It didn't have to be this way," Lily murmurs.

She turns to go, and notices for the first time that the sheets are untucked. Normally the nurses keep Beth's bed sheets neatly tucked in all around, as if appearances matter to a coma patient. Lily has avoided looking at the awkward, unnatural shape Beth's legs make beneath the blankets, but now curiosity outweighs caution. She lifts the edge of the sheet carefully.

One glimpse of steel and plaster and bruised flesh is too much. Lily has a vivid flashback to her own injury, which she'd played down when talking to Nina. She remembers, too well, the fall, the wrenching sensation, the brittle crunching snap, and the long disbelieving seconds before the pain hit like a spiked hammer.

Those recollections send her fleeing from the room, a hair's breadth away from panic, and she stops herself in the corridor outside the hospital unit. Lily leans back against the wall, head bowed, forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths. Her broken ankle had been pure mental and physical torture. Even with a cast, every step or accidental jar sent fresh pain sparking up her leg. And the knowledge that she'd never dance again, that her shattered and pinned-together ankle would never support her weight _en__pointe_… Well, at the time dance had been her life, the only time she ever felt whole was when she was onstage. Losing that had taken her right back to the hell she'd clawed her way out of.

The doctors hadn't wanted to send her home alone, but she had no family, so Charles agreed to look after her. Charles, her director, her lover, her mentor in all things. The pills they gave her didn't keep the pain at bay, so he supplemented them, and the first few weeks after the incident were a drugged-out haze. When Lily sobered up enough to realize how much she'd truly lost, she'd tried to take her own life.

Charles found her bleeding, took her to the emergency room, and sat with her as they bandaged her wrists. He was the one who talked her down from all the metaphorical ledges over the next part of her recovery. Not because he loved her – Lily was never so foolish as to think that. Charles loved no one other than himself and the San Francisco Ballet. He took care of her because he hated to see her talent wasted. He was the one who found her a new place within the company, as the assistant choreographer.

She'd found her way again, found a new reason to live, climbing the ladder of success all the way here to the East Coast's premier ballet company. Lily had thought those dark times were behind her, but the flashbacks racing through her mind prove otherwise. Those days of drugs and pain and bitter despair are only a thought away, kept from her conscious mind by the thinnest of membranes. Too clearly she can remember how the knife slid easily through the thin skin of her wrist, how the blood welling up was almost pretty, bright red against her fading tan.

Lily shudders, her hands tightening into fists, her eyes screwed shut as if somehow that could block out the images of the past. She doesn't want to go back there, doesn't want to think of Beth ever again if it means reliving that hell…

"Lily? Are you all right?" It's Nina's voice, and Lily snaps back to the present with a startled gasp. She must look like hell, wild-eyed and trembling on the verge of tears, and she _does__not_ cry, not since she was a little girl and learned that tears change nothing … only once since then, in those days when her dreams of dancing died, she'd wept as she sharpened the knife.

"I'm fine," she says, her voice rasping, and by the look on her face Nina doesn't believe her at all.

"Here, you need to sit down," Nina says soothingly, and Lily bristles. She loathes pity, hates being treated like she's _weak_.

"I told you I'm _fine_," Lily growls. Anger gives her enough stability to straighten up and toss her hair over her shoulder. Poor Nina looks so confused, and Lily remembers in time that she doesn't want to lash out at this one. She can't risk breaking Nina. "Really, Nina, I'm okay. Just a little light-headed. It's that antiseptic smell. I can't stand it for long."

"All right," Nina says softly, cautious again. "Have you been in to see Beth? How is she?"

"About the same," Lily replies, wondering why Nina's visiting. She and Beth never seemed close, and the last time they spoke Beth was drunk and vicious. Then again, maybe Nina feels some kind of guilt because she was with Lily when Beth decided to dance in traffic.

Nina nods and seems uncertain. She is such an awkward thing most of the time. But oh, when she dances, she's not awkward at all then. Lily smiles at the thought. "I'll see you at the studio," she says, and gives Nina a quick peck on the cheek that leaves the younger woman even more off balance.


	13. Tension

**Author'sNote: Instead of giving you a long-winded explanation of the Florida hospital system and aftercare, I'll just say my life is insane right now and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. Updates will be sporadic, but they _will_ happen. Thank you for your patience. **

…

The rivalry among the dancers is at fever-pitch with no one declared as alternate for so long. All of them want it, and all of them are ready to do anything to get Lily's approval and beat the rest into the top position. All except Nina, who's beginning to believe that Lily has such faith in her that she's not going to name an alternate for the Swan Queen. It would be unprecedented, but doing the unexpected is hardly unusual for Lily.

Nina tries to stay out of the others' squabbling, though she can't help overhearing some of it. Veronica is the most cutthroat by far. She's reduced Michelle, a promising young soloist, to hysterical tears more than once. And everyone suspects her of being the one who keeps leaving doughnuts and candies in the dressing room. Some of the girls can't resist, and it quickly shows.

And then Veronica turns on Nina. Every time Nina turns her back on the blue-eyed girl, she hears mocking laughter—but when she turns to look, Veronica just gives her a dubious glance. Veronica has to be the one spreading rumors, whispering to the other dancers that Nina's losing it. Nina can tell by the way they look at her.

That strange darkness in her soul rises up one day after practice, and instead of flinching away from Veronica's subtle gibes, Nina rounds on her. "What is your _problem_?" she snaps. "If you want the role, then keep practicing until you're good enough for it!"

"Yeah, that'll help," Veronica sneers. "We all know how _you_ got it." Some of the other dancers suppress laughter; some don't bother to hide it.

Nina's spine turns to ice, and she can't help but stare in utter incomprehension. Veronica smiles patronizingly. "Don't worry, Nina. You'll always be the prima ballerina, as long you keep on being Lily's little princess."

She can't help blushing fiercely, and that's all the confirmation the rest need. Veronica grins in triumph, laughing nastily. After that, Nina's sure that Veronica has been the one messing with the lights in her dressing room, the one spraying Lily's perfume in there so Nina catches ghostly hints of her scent.

It's not just Veronica, though. All of the girls are against her; she gets shoved in the hallway, or glared at on the way into the studio, almost daily. It's like Veronica's managed to turn them against her. Someone steals her lipstick right out of her purse one morning, and not even Lily's furious lecture on respecting one another's property gets it back. Nina grows increasingly paranoid.

All of it comes to a head the day Nina goes to be measured for the black swan costume. Her reflection is multiplied a thousand times by facing mirrors, and some of the reflections aren't behaving quite right. Whenever Nina moves, some of them don't move exactly in time. While she looks intently, trying to figure out if it's some flaw in the glass that's causing that effect, one of her reflections leans out of the pack and looks boldly back at Nina.

She gasps and jerks back, startled. The errant reflection is gone, replaced by a dark-haired dancer talking to the costumer. Nina turns to look, and sees Veronica. The blue-eyed girl smiles at her. "She finally made me your alternate," Veronica says sweetly. "I guess you're starting to bore her."

Nina stares wide-eyed as a doe in the path of a semi truck, then whirls and flees. She's running down the stairs as Lily is coming up them, and at the sight of her director Nina starts calling her name in frantic, rising tones.

That gets Lily almost-running to meet her, and she's normally quite deliberate about taking the stairs. "Nina, honey, what's wrong?"

"Not her," Nina gasps out. Her voice is choked with emotion, fear and anger fighting for supremacy. Tears of frustration are beginning to leak from her eyes. "Not her. She's out to get me, Lily, you can't, not her, anyone but her…"

"Shh, shh," Lily soothes as she steps up onto the same stair as Nina, equalizing their height. She cups Nina's face, making the half-hysterical dancer look at her. "Easy, Nina, relax. It's okay."

"No, it's not, Veronica's trying to drive me crazy, she wants my role…"

"She can't have it unless you give it to her," Lily counters, her voice low and steady. Nina craves her serenity, leaning into the touch as Lily strokes the tears away from her cheeks.

Nina's still trembling, though, and no amount of soothing will talk her down from the nervous ledge she's shivering on. Lily gently leads her down to the office, and nudges her into taking the chair. Nina lets her, trying to concentrate on each breath; she doesn't notice as Lily unlocks her desk and takes out a bottle of water … and a bottle of pills, shaking one into her palm. "Sweetheart, you're stressed out and wound up. Here, take one of these."

Alarm brightens Nina's tear-stained eyes. "I don't… I shouldn't…"

"Relax. Would I give you something that could hurt you?" Lily says it lightly, but Nina's not yet convinced. She's always been wary of drugs, never had anything stronger than Tylenol in her life. When she doesn't take the pill being offered to her, Lily looks hurt. "It's just Xanax, Nina. They're for anxiety. It'll help you calm down."

That sounds reasonable, but… "Why do you have anxiety pills?" Nina asks, confused.

Lily laughs. "Sweetheart, if you don't think _my_ job is stressful, I'll take a vacation and let _you_ do it for a week, okay?"

"You're right." Nina manages a rusty chuckle and takes the pill. Lily has a point. Just because she seems so perfectly calm and put-together at every moment doesn't mean she isn't stressed-out, too. And then, Nina's never quite believed Lily's excuses the day they ran into each other at the hospital. Lily looked frankly panicked then, though she'd gotten herself under control quickly. Maybe she knows more about anxiety than anyone suspects. Nina swallows the pill with a sip of water, and Lily encourages her to drink the rest.

"Now you just sit back, close your eyes, and think relaxing thoughts until that starts to kick in," Lily says. She's leaning against her desk, watching Nina, who tries her best to breathe deeply and calm down.

A deep shudder runs through her, and she opens her eyes. "Veronica _is_ out to get me," she manages to say. "Why'd you make her my alternate?"

"Trust me, I didn't want to," Lily sighs. "But she's the next best dancer. She's nowhere _near_ good enough for your role, but I have to have an alternate. And maybe now that she's got the alternate she'll quit fucking around with the rest of the girls."

"You _know_ about that?" Nina says, shocked. If she knows, why hasn't Lily put a stop to it?

"Oh, I know it's her. I just can't _prove_ it, or I'd kick the little bitch to the curb in a heartbeat. She's talented, yes, but she's spiteful and ambitious. She has no _soul_, Nina, not like you do." Lily's gaze turns tender at the comparison, and Nina looks down.

"Veronica thinks…" Nina can't finish the sentence, a blush mounting in her cheeks.

"She thinks what?" Lily asks.

"That I … that you and I…"

Lily scoffs. "Oh, she thinks you fucked your way into the starring role?" Nina snaps her head up at that cynical tone, and sees Lily shaking her head scornfully. "Whatever. You and I both know it isn't true. You wouldn't go that far, and that's not how I run things. You got the role because you're the best for it, period. Your white swan is perfect, and your black swan's coming along nicely."

"But … the day I asked you…" Nina's totally perplexed now. How can Lily act as if the things that have happened between them never happened? Not even in her own mind can she refers to those incidents in specific terms.

Lily smiles indolently. "Sweetheart, I never had Veronica in mind for the role. I wanted _you_ to star in this show. But I had to make sure you had the passion for it, that you wanted it enough to fight for it. And that bite showed me there's more to you than the sweet little girl you let everyone else see."

Nina blushes again, and to her own surprise fresh tears run down her heated cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong?" Lily asks worriedly, cupping her chin and making Nina look at her.

"I … I thought … you only chose me because…" Nina answers.

Deliberately, Lily shakes her head. "No, love. It's not like that. I promise you." With that she leans forward and kisses Nina twice, just beneath her eyes, kissing the tears away. Bemused, Nina looks up at her as she pulls away, seeing Lily lick the salt off her lips. That starts up a different kind of blush, one that only gets worse when Lily hops up on the desk and crosses her legs.

The angle that Nina's sitting at, for a brief second she can see straight up Lily's skirt. She gets a glimpse of toned thighs and black panties, and for an instant she imagines sliding her hands up there, leaning forward and kissing that perfect skin.

She doesn't realize she's still looking, staring fixedly, until Lily asks in amusement, "See something you like?" Nina's ears burn as she blushes even more brightly crimson, looking anywhere but at Lily. The director nudges Nina's knee with the tips of her toes, laughing. "Oh, stop. It's all right, Nina. I like being appreciated. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't go through all the trouble of keeping myself in shape. Not to mention buying the wardrobe to show it all off."

Lily _is_ a sharp dresser, favoring dark colors and cuts that flatter her slender curves. Nina's noticed more than she apparently realized before now. Still, she can't look Lily in the eye, not now that she knows she's been caught staring. Lily just chuckles. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, actually," Nina says, surprised.

"Good. Come to me if you get feeling high-strung like that again. Some stress, some tension, is necessary for high art, but if it gets that bad we've got to dial it back just a bit." With that she hops down off the desk and kisses the top of Nina's head. "Come on, you'll be late for afternoon practice."


	14. Decisions

**Author's Note: My life has been insane for months. It's finally sort of evening out again, so here's a couple chapters of TCD to apologize for making you wait so long.**

**The post-Coda fic set in California is still in the works, but I have no idea when I'll get around to it. This one, at least, I got some headway on. Thanks for being patient!**

…

Lily watches Nina dance that afternoon with avid eyes. A little Xanax goes a long way; freed from the anxiety that typically imprisons her, Nina dances with more fluidity and grace, and her black swan is lovely. Lily doesn't bother to hide the hunger in her rapt gaze, though she can't quite lose herself in the performance.

She'll have to do something about Veronica eventually. That snide attitude just won't fly; it's irritating as hell, and it wrecks the entire cooperative/competitive dynamic essential to the company. She just has to catch Veronica in the act and confront her with evidence. _Then_ she can properly humble her. Forced to beg for a second chance, Veronica might finally realize who's in charge here, and that she's never going to be able to manipulate Lily into doing what she wants.

Not to mention, it would be very interesting to see what Veronica would offer to keep her position if she felt her director was truly furious with her. It's been a while since anyone wore a collar for Lily… Besides, humiliation and domination would keep Veronica under better control than sex. If they fuck, Veronica can pretend it's her own idea, and Lily wants to thoroughly destroy her delusions of superiority. Sex is one of the things that Lily does only on her own terms, no compromises accepted.

She can't concentrate on all of that now, though. It's for the future. As for the present, she has to walk a very fine line with her young star. At the moment Nina is making David seriously reconsider his answer of a few weeks ago. She actually _smiles_, not the strained tightening of lips that usually passes for a smile, but a real grin of happiness. It's the Xanax, of course, and that gives Lily all kinds of ideas.

Lily keeps a small pharmacy split between her medicine cabinet at home and her desk drawer at work, all of which was prescribed to her: Ambien, Cymbalta, Percocet, Valium, Vicodin, Wellbutrin, and Xanax. Some are for stress, some for depression, some for pain, and one for insomnia. By seeing several different doctors and using two pharmacies, Lily manages to keep all of her prescriptions current without any of them realizing she's using the drugs for more than the specified purpose.

Speaking of recreational drugs, in several careful hiding places she also has a few things she acquired by trading her legitimate prescriptions: some Rohypnol, and a generous supply of ecstasy. That last is the one that Lily's mind keeps coming back to. Sedating Nina won't help her for long, and the antidepressants might not help. The pain meds, well, they'll chill her out, but Nina surely doesn't have Lily's tolerance, and even half of one of her Vicodin would probably leave Nina acting drunk. And she certainly doesn't want that.

Lily is aware, of course, that sharing prescription drugs is a felony. Any narc looking into her desk drawer would immediately assume she's either selling them or abusing them. She would argue the point, and possibly win; her ankle has never been the same, and New York's damp, chilly winters turn it into an agony some days. Plus the stresses of her job, of trying to hold this company together in a world that barely appreciates art and mostly associates ballet with grade-school girls in tutus, have certainly given her a right to be anxious, depressed, and sleep-deprived.

She doesn't think of herself as a junkie, nor does she consider the way she uses and mixes her prescriptions to be drug abuse. It _is_ true that without her pills, Lily would be a very different person: on edge, in pain, subject to bouts of depression, and possibly violent as well. The meds keep her calm, keep the pain at bay, chase the darkness from her mind, and soften her quick temper to something more socially acceptable. She's careful how and when she uses them, knowing that all of them will enhance each other's effects, and that taking any two of them with alcohol would likely kill her. They are dangerous, and for that reason both the cabinet at home and the desk drawer are locked.

Lily's not afraid of death, though. She loves life, loves its challenges, loves making new conquests. If she dies, at least she'll do so knowing that she _lived_ while she could. All the same, she's not eager to die, so she keeps the drugs carefully separated and knows her reaction and tolerance extremely well.

With Nina, she needs to reduce the girl's anxiety without dragging her down so far she can't perform. Tension _is _necessary to her performance, or Lily wouldn't torque up the attraction between them the way she does. Still, sexual manipulation can work both ways, to put someone on edge or to relax them. Yet with Nina, Lily doesn't think it's going to work as the only solution to her excessive stress. She'll need drugs—Nina's neurotic enough that it's a surprise she's not already on them. And ecstasy seems like the best candidate. It'll relax her without making her sleepy or impairing her mind. It will also make her more sociable, less awkward.

And perhaps best of all, it will make her more aware of her body. Not in the clinical, technical, muscle-tendon-and-bone in which she knows it now, but a more sensual understanding. Nina's beautiful, in a fragile way, yet she doesn't seem to know it, or to enjoy the youth and loveliness that she possesses. Lily would like to see her embody that more, to love herself and to fully inhabit her flesh, so that her black swan can be every ounce as magnificent as Lily needs it to be.

It's then, while Lily's daydreaming about how Nina would dance on ecstasy, how much freer she would be, that Susie knocks on the door before opening it. Everyone stops and turns to look. "Sorry to interrupt, I know you're working," the older woman begins.

Lily waves a hand dismissively. "No problem. What's up?" If it were anyone else, Lily would scold, but as Charles once told her, the first rule of any successful director is _love thy office manager_. Susie knows everything that's going on, sometimes before Lily does, and she would never risk the woman's displeasure by yelling at her.

"It's Beth," Susie says, and Lily's heart kicks once, hard, like a furious dancer trapped in her chest.

For a moment she can't even hear the next words, so sure of what they'll be. _She's dead._ "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asks, in a polite calm tone nothing like the roaring in her ears.

"She's awake," Susie repeats, starting to smile. "Beth's awake, Lily, the doctors won't say anything over the phone, they're trying to reach you, but the nurse I spoke with said it looks good…"

Lily's instantly on her feet, and she hadn't known until this moment quite how much she was expecting Beth to die of her injuries. She takes two steps before she remembers what she's doing here, and turns to look at her dancers. Nina is the only one who catches her gaze, and her eyes are full of complicated things. "Go," she says softly, and Lily does.

Only once Lily's actually in the cab does she realize it looked to everyone watching as if she asked for and received Nina's permission to leave. She swears, thumping her head on the backrest of the seat a couple times in frustration. Still, it's Nina, and so far Nina's mostly been easy to keep in check. Other than a few brief flashes, she doesn't seem to have much dominance to her. Veronica, now, if it had been _her_ Lily would probably have to physically overpower her to rein in her ego after an incident like that.

Even though she's seen Beth every day for two weeks (except the past three days, she hasn't been back since that horrible glimpse of Beth's shattered leg), Lily's still shocked at her appearance. While she slept, Beth had a kind of mournful serenity. Now awake, it's more obvious that she's weak and gaunt and in pain. Lily wants to shy from the vision; she's seen that look in a mirror before.

But Beth is expecting her, has already caught sight of her, and her smile is pathetically glad to see Lily here. Lily goes to her in a rush and hugs her carefully, murmuring, "Oh, princess, I thought we'd lost you," against Beth's lank hair.

Still, in the back of her mind, she's thinking Beth looks terrible. The comparison with Nina, in the flush of her youth and power and beauty, is especially cruel. If Nina looks like life and potential, Beth looks like death and wasted chances.

Lily can't help knowing which one she'll choose.


	15. Savior

It's two days after Beth wakes when, distracted by a flirtatious smile from Lily at afternoon practice, Nina forgets her bus pass in her locker. She turns around to get it, and catches Veronica in the act of writing 'WHORE' on her locker in a familiar dark red lipstick.

That dark part of herself, the one she tries to keep locked down, rages forth. "What do you think you're doing?" Nina yells, startling Veronica enough that she drops the lipstick.

After a second of shock, the other girl recovers her arrogance and sneers. "Reminding you of what we all know."

"You don't know anything," Nina snarls, storming toward her.

Veronica steps forward too, shoving Nina hard. But Nina's half-blinded by outrage, and she grabs the front of Veronica's shrug and uses it to swing her around and slam her bodily against the lockers. Her pale blue eyes open wide in shocked terror, and Nina leans in to hiss, "You stay the hell away from me if you know what's good for you!"

"Leave her alone, Nina," comes Lily's voice from just behind her, and the director's hand is on her shoulder, gentle as her soft-spoken words. Somehow that cools Nina's wrath like nothing else could, and she's alone in her head when she stumbles back from Veronica.

Lily rounds on Veronica now, and takes a deliberate step into her space. Nina can see the banked rage burning in her mismatched eyes, and Veronica quails. Lily's glance flicks from the girl to the locker to the lipstick on the floor. "Nina, is that the lipstick that went missing?"

Nina picks it up to make sure. It's got her initials written on the label, something she did shortly after stealing it from Beth—only she didn't think of it as stealing then. It was more like … trying to capture a bit of Beth's glamour. If she wore Beth's earrings and lipstick, if she evened her nails with Beth's file, maybe she'd gain some of Beth's luck. Although now she begins to wonder if she's stolen more than a few trifling items from Beth… "Yes, it's the same one," she tells Lily.

"You're a thief, a liar, a gossip, and a coward," Lily tells Veronica in dispassionate tones. "Get out."

"What?" the blue-eyed girl gasps.

"You heard me. Get out. Leave the studio. Don't come back 'til Thursday when the checks come in. We'll discuss your severance then."

"Severance?" Veronica nearly screams. "You don't dare…"

"Don't try me," Lily warns, taking another step closer, her eyes blazing. Nina's heart pounds. This is what she's wanted to see from the beginning, Lily taking her side against those who are trying to drive her mad. Justice served, at last.

Pushed to the brink of hysteria, Veronica does something as stupid as it is unexpected, and tries to shove _Lily_. Nina gasps at the audacity, but Lily has her pinned against the lockers in half a second, Veronica's face flattened against the metal while her arm is twisted up behind her back. "Let me go," Veronica half-sobs. "Let me go or I'll sue your ass off!"

"Like you can afford a lawyer," Lily says, sounding bored. "I told you not to try me, Veronica. You _really_ don't want to threaten me. Now _get out_." The last is a snarl full of warning, and Lily releases Veronica only to watch her flee.

For a moment, Nina's actually a little scared of her savior. It's not the first time, though, and the feeling passes when Lily sighs in annoyance and rakes a hand through her hair. "Well, that's done with. I'd hoped to catch her today—I just didn't expect you to be here too."

"I forgot my bus pass," Nina explains, feeling guilty for messing up Lily's plans.

"As long as she doesn't go to the cops and try to charge us both with assault, we're okay," Lily says, and Nina startles at the realization that what just happened could get them both in serious trouble. Then the director shrugs. "I doubt she will, though. She's too much a coward. And if she does, I have the company lawyer on retainer, plus it was self-defense. If she wants any chance at keeping her job, she'll be smart enough to keep her mouth shut until Thursday."

"But … but you fired her," Nina says, perplexed.

"Yeah, and I told you I gave her your role, once," Lily says with a grin. When Nina just stares at her in confusion, Lily cups her face, stroking a gentle finger along her jaw. "Sweetheart, I don't want to get rid of her. She's a good dancer; she just sucks as a person. If I can force her to be a good enough person that the rest of you can tolerate her, I don't have to kick her out."

"She deserves to be thrown out." It takes Nina a second to realize that muttered growl is _her_.

"Yeah, she does. But if we all got what we deserve, the world would be more miserable than it already is. Besides, I hate seeing talent go to waste. Half of us don't appreciate what we have 'til it's gone." Lily's eyes flash stormy at the end, and Nina remembers she was injured at the peak of her career.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, looking down. "I just … I was so angry at her. Lily, I don't know how to thank you for stepping in when you did."

Just like that, Lily's mood lightens. "I do. Come to dinner with me." Nina blinks in surprise, and Lily smiles persuasively. "Drinks, at least. Come on. Please?"

Nina's never seen her like this, and it makes her chest feel strangely tight. Lily's being coy, playful … almost flirty. "All right. But I can't be out long. My mom…"

"Tell her you're with me," Lily says blithely, and catches her hand, tugging her along.


	16. Dinner

**Author's Note: My life has been insane. Thank you putting up with the delays—at this point I have no idea when I'll be able to get this fic finished. I'm trying to work on it, but the amount of free time I have has plummeted.**

…

Nina's plainly nervous when they sit down to dinner at a little restaurant-slash-bar. The lighting's dim, the tables are a comfortable distance apart, and the food smells delicious. Lily's mouth is already watering when their waiter brings them menus. "Order whatever you like, I'm paying," she tells Nina.

"I can't let you…" The poor thing actually looks distressed.

"We'll talk about dance, so it's a business dinner and I'll deduct it on my taxes," Lily replies firmly.

"No, really, Lily. I can't let you buy me dinner," Nina protests.

Lily looks at her over the menu for two full seconds, one eyebrow arched up. "Nina, I'm your boss. I'm _ordering _you to pick something delicious on my dime. Now stop arguing with me."

That very serious tone gets a faint snicker from Nina, and when the waiter returns she orders a fancy salad with strawberries and pecans. Sounds good, actually, but it's not what Lily's craving. When the waiter turns to her, she says, "I'll have the mushroom swissburger, hold the onions please, but _extra_ mushrooms if you can. And no side order."

Nina's eyes widen, and Lily chuckles at her. "What, you've never seen a dancer order a cheeseburger before?" That gets a laugh, and they spend the time before the meal arrives in casual small talk. Lily makes sure to discuss business enough that it will really count for a tax deduction, and in the process enlightens Nina a bit more about her side of things.

When the food arrives, Nina is clearly shocked by the size of the burger. "There's no way you can eat that whole thing!" she exclaims.

"You're right," Lily says in amused tones. "Wanna share?"

"Oh God, I can't," Nina says, shaking her head. "The calories…"

"You'll dance it off," Lily replies, already cutting it in half. She gives Nina no choice, switching to the seat beside her (and noticing Nina's little gasp when she does) so she can more easily steal bites of Nina's salad and share the burger.

Nina has the choice of taking a bite of the sinfully rich burger, or having it bumped against her nose, so she takes the bite. And practically groans, rolling her eyes. Lily wonders when she last allowed herself to indulge in something like this. Probably never, given how slim she keeps herself. Of all the girls, Nina could actually stand to _gain_ a pound or two of muscle.

Defeated, Nina takes her half of the burger while Lily demolishes hers with obvious enjoyment. The waiter drops back by to ask how it is, and flirts awkwardly enough that Lily has to resort to a blunt smackdown to get rid of him. _As if anyone with half a brain couldn't figure out who I'm trying to charm here,_ she thinks, scoffing.

They're sitting just a little too close, sharing each other's meals, even laughing a bit, though Nina's still cautious. When she finishes the burger she looks ruefully at her slightly shiny fingertips. The burger was too juicy to be eaten neatly. "God, I can't believe I ate that. There's got to be a hundred calories in just the grease there."

"Damn the calories," Lily laughs, catching Nina's hand and licking a spot of mushroom-beef-swiss deliciousness off her thumb. The girl gasps, and Lily smiles as she sucks the rest of her fingers clean. And Nina _lets_ her, unable to pull her hand away even though her pulse is racing hard enough for Lily to feel it on her tongue. Her eyes are dazed when Lily pulls away, and the director tries to keep the wicked, knowing smile off her face. "Mmmm, that's yummy. And the salad was pretty good too."

"I … I have no business eating that much," Nina says shakily, trying for normalcy and failing absolutely.

"Then there's only one thing to do," Lily says, catching her gaze. "Go next door to the club and dance it off before it gets a chance to stick."

"Oh, I can't," Nina protests immediately.

"Why not?" Lily asks, confident she can overcome any objection.

"Well, my mother will worry if I'm out too late."

"You're with _me_, Nina. She can't complain if you're with your boss—on business, no less."

To her shock, Nina actually laughs. "This isn't business, Lily."

"Of course it is," Lily argues. Life has taught her to regain her equilibrium—and control—very quickly. "Taking you out for some rest and relaxation, getting you to indulge a little, it's all about business, about making your black swan as perfect as it can be. You can't study for the most passionate role you've ever danced all alone in a studio, can you now?"

To that, Nina has no argument. It doesn't mean she's quite given in. "I don't even know if I can dance to, you know, club music."

And that's more of a wheedling complaint than a real excuse. "Oh please. You have _how_ many years of training in ballet? And half the people out there have never had one dance lesson? You'll be fine if you can just let go."

"That's the problem, I _can't_ let go. I never have, not at the studio, not at home, _never_," Nina says in a rush, her voice strained.

"Easy, sweetheart," Lily soothes. "I honestly believe you don't know _how_ to relax. Here, I'll help you." With that she opens her cigarette case to reveal two white capsules. Lily plucks one out and offers it to Nina.

"Those don't look like the others," Nina says warily.

"They aren't the same. This won't make you sleepy like Xanax," Lily replies casually. When Nina still won't take it, she sighs with a hint of irritation and pops the pill into her own mouth, washing it down with a sip of water. Its effects will be muted by the antidepressants she's on, but she'll still feel most of the euphoria. "See, it's not poison. Now take the other one." As she speaks she's plucking it out of its place.

Nina finally takes it, but she holds the capsule cupped in her palm for a moment, still hesitating. "But what is it?" she asks.

"MDMA," Lily tells her, letting herself sound a trifle cross. "It'll relax you, make you less fearful, make you feel good… Take it, Nina." The only pressure she puts on Nina is the weight of her expectation; she won't force Nina or anyone else. Lead her astray, yes, oh yes indeed, but drive her there unwilling? Never.

And finally, Nina does yield, and swallows the pill. Lily smiles triumphantly, pays the check, and pulls Nina to her feet. "C'mon, let's go next door and have a celebratory drink."


	17. Ecstasy

**A/N: What's this? A new chapter after a break of more than a year? Yes, feel free to be astounded, I might actually finish this one.**

**There are a couple more chapters already written, but I am trying to stay a bit ahead so I don't have to leave you hanging. My life has been insane-more on that in my profile-but I might be in a situation where I can _write_ again on Black Swan stuff. You have no idea how happy that makes me. These characters have remained very much alive in the back of my mind, and I know how this one ends. Here's hoping I can get us all there in a timely fashion.**

**Thank you to everyone who has favorited and reviewed this story and _Coda_. I love you all.**

* * *

><p>Later, Nina remembers the exact moment the drug—MDMA, something she's never heard of before—kicked in. Lily had bought them each a drink, waving off eager admirers at the bar, and Nina had sat back on a conveniently free sofa to sip it. She was surprised by the lack of alcohol taste, and drank perhaps faster than she should have.<p>

Lily had been sitting beside her, idly petting her hair, and had finished her own drink. Encouraging Nina to polish off the last sips of hers, Lily had gotten up to get a refill. Nina was left contemplating her hands. Suddenly they seemed the most miraculous contraptions on earth. All the delicate little connections of bone and muscle and tendon, a hundred tiny adjustments all the way up her forearms just for her to rub her thumbs against her fingertips. And weirdly, she could feel every ridge of her fingerprints, feel _everything_—the fabric of her clothing, the way her hair rests against her neck—more keenly than ever.

When Lily sat down beside her, her skin looked so smooth and inviting that Nina couldn't help resting her cheek on Lily's shoulder and rubbing her face against her director's skin. It didn't seem like a freaky thing to do at the time, it seemed perfectly natural, though later she'd be frightened by it. As Nina rubbed against her like a friendly cat, Lily chuckled, "Well, hello."

Her voice, so husky and warm, made Nina tilt her face up, almost touching noses—almost kissing her. "Looks like someone's rolling," Lily purred, stroking the curve of her jaw, and whispered, "C'mon, it's time to go dance."

Then they were on the dance floor, the beat of the music thundering in Nina's heart, echoing in her lungs, pulsing in her brain. She had no choice but to surrender herself to it, roll with it, swaying to the beat. Lily swayed with her, and after a while her hands were on Nina's shoulders, Nina's hips. Nina found she could touch Lily, too, embrace her even, dance cheek to cheek if she wanted—or turn and lean back in Lily's arms, Lily's body pressed to hers, Lily's hands roaming up and down her sides.

From there things begin to skip. She remembers kissing Lily on the dance floor, tasting alcohol on her tongue. She remembers them both dancing with a couple of guys, then breaking away and coming back to each other. She remembers shivering as a single bead of sweat rolled down her spine, feeling every millimeter of its journey take a mile along her sensitized skin. She remembers getting more drinks, but how many more she has no idea.

Nina remembers the way the lights in the club, multicolored and flashing, seemed to take her to another state of being, another frame of mind, in which it's okay to lick her lips and caress her own breasts as she stares sultrily at Lily. She remembers Lily kissing her neck, then biting, and it doesn't hurt, it feels _amazing_.

She remembers going into the club's narrow, dingy bathroom, staring down her reflection as she washes her hands afterward, and the wild-eyed woman in the mirror can't be Nina. She's someone else, someone free, someone unpredictable. _The black swan, spreading her wings at last._ She goes back out to the dance floor and doesn't even bother to look for Lily, sidling up to the first attractive stranger and feeling like she could absolutely swim in the crowd. All of them are here for her, and she loves them in that moment.

The skips grow further apart, just flashes now. Flinging her arms around Lily on the dance floor, just rocking back and forth in each other's embrace, and then on impulse turning to suck on Lily's earlobe, feeling her gasp. Later, dancing, sliding her hand up under Lily's skirt, just an inch or so to caress the skin above the stockings, seeing shock in her eyes and laughing at it. Then with her back to Lily, grinding her hips backward, Lily's hands on her breasts, knowing everyone in the club is watching her, wanting her, wanting to _be_ her. And it's all hers. No one can take it away. Joyful, Nina loses herself in the lights and the music and the press of bodies.

Much later, Nina flickers back to herself to find she's pushed up against a cold concrete wall. But she's not cold, her skin is burning, and that's probably because _Lily_ is pressed tight against her. Lily's tongue in her mouth, both of them kissing frantically, forsaking air for passion. Nina's leg wrapped around Lily's hip, Lily's knee between her thighs, Nina's other leg between Lily's. Lily pinning one of Nina's hands against the wall, Lily's other hand on her hip, running her nails down the back of her thigh, and Nina's free hand buried in Lily's hair, pulling her close and closer still.

But all of that is just background noise, because their bodies are practically glued together, and they're still dancing, still rocking to a quickening rhythm, and every thrust of Lily's hips is met with a swivel by Nina's. In perfect harmony, the heat between them grows, spurred on by the beat of the music that throbs through the concrete. Hungry and wild, Nina realizes that every time their mouths part for breath, she's giving out a wanton little cry. She's close to the peak right now, her panties soaked, and where Lily's grinding against her thigh she can feel that, incredibly, Lily's just as aroused.

And then there's a momentary flash of light that distracts them both. Lily whips her head around and Nina blinks, startled. Both of them see a tall skinhead with facial tattoos grinning at them, holding the camera phone he evidently used to take their picture a second ago. "Hell yeah, girls, don't stop for me. Just gimme a sec to figure out how to work the video."

Lily steps away, her voice low and deadly. "Give me that."

Nina doesn't wait around to see what happens. An instant of sobriety occurs; what if that wound up on the internet and someone figured out who they were? What if the company saw—what if her _mother_ saw? She flees.


	18. Interrupted

"Give me that," Lily demands, and the skinhead just grins at her evilly. Two minutes ago she was so turned on she could barely believe it, and the abrupt shock of being photographed is transmuting that lust to rage.

"Come get it," he taunts, holding the phone high above his head. He's much taller, she'll never reach it, and she won't make a fool out of herself by jumping for it.

Frustration boils over into anger. "Give it to me right now, cocksucker," she growls, stalking toward him.

"Yeah, there's an idea, baby," he says, stepping back and holding the damn phone higher. "You suck my cock and you can delete that picture. What's the matter, your little girlfriend got a big, mean husband somewhere?"

He has no idea who he's dealing with. There are very good reasons why no man should ever try to coerce Lily into anything sexual. Her eyes go dark with unrestrained fury, and she aims a savage scything kick at his knee. She's strong; she's lost none of the strength from her dancing days, it's only the inflexibility and instability of one lousy joint that keeps her off the stage.

His knee gives, and he falls, landing heavily on the other knee. That brings the phone—a fancy touchscreen model—into Lily's range, and she snatches it. Even on his knees and in pain, the skinhead doesn't know when he's beaten. "Hey, what the fuck! Give that back, bitch!" he bellows, trying to get to his feet.

"You want it, asshole? Here you go." With that, Lily smashes him in the face, an inelegant roundhouse punch, and the phone's touchscreen shatters against his cheek. He squeals like an injured rabbit, and Lily hits him again … and again.

His face is bleeding, there are bits of plastic scattered around, and Lily remembers before she hits him a fourth time that Nina ran off somewhere. Nina's more important than vengeance—but Lily keeps the blood-stained phone as she turns away to find her. She's not in the hallway, and Lily knows somehow that Nina has flat-out run away. At that moment, she wants to go back to the skinhead and ram the goddamn phone down his throat for interrupting them, but she has no time to waste if she wants to catch Nina.

She heads for the door, and sees Nina on the street, looking for a cab. "Nina!" Lily yells, hanging on to the door frame. She makes herself laugh and sound light-hearted, even though her heart's pounding with the fear that she'll lose Nina for good over this. "Where are you going?"

Nina turns with wide eyes and a lost expression. She's so delectably disheveled that even if there wasn't an angry skinhead in the club behind her, Lily would definitely follow her into a cab. "I … I need to get home."

"Wait up, you need your coat," Lily insists, and only when Nina nods agreement does she duck back inside to grab both of their coats. And then she's hurrying down the steps as fast as she dares in heels, catching up to Nina and throwing the coat around her shoulders. She grabs Nina's hand and tugs her to the curb, waving down a cabbie.

They both pile in, and Nina opens her mouth to give her home address. Lily gives hers instead, and Nina looks at her warily through the glaze of drugs and desire. "Lily, I shouldn't… Mom's already called me like ten times."

Instead of the flippant response she normally gives, Lily leans in close, her arm on the backrest behind Nina. Into her voice she puts all the warmth and hunger that dancing with Nina has called up in her. "Listen, Nina, if you don't want to do this, then just say so. Nothing about your mom, I don't care what Erica wants, I want to know what _you_ want. And if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to go home with me, I'll get out and send the cab on to your place. All right? But you have to say it to my face." Then she waits, composed and serious, fully intending to be true to her word—_if_ Nina can actually get the words out. Lily's as certain of her own irresistibility as she is of the sun rising tomorrow morning.

Nina's breath is still quick, her pulse still leaping in her throat, and she glances away, then back. "I … I don't … Lily, I…" Her voice is breathy, and she closes her eyes in defeat, dropping her head back against Lily's arm. Her fraught expression makes her lovelier than ever; Nina is beautiful in her suffering.

"Shh," Lily murmurs, stroking her jaw softly. "It's all right, Nina. Let me take care of you. I know you don't want to go back home just yet." Nina snuggles into the curve of her shoulder, hiding her face, and Lily pets and soothes her. Fortunately the cabbie is professional enough not to remark on it.

Which reminds her, she has a phone to destroy. "Slide over a second, sweetheart," Lily murmurs, and takes the phone of the coat pocket Nina was leaning against.

"You got his phone?" Nina asks in astonishment. "How?"

The badly-cracked screen is something Lily won't explain, not to Nina. "I'm persuasive when I want to be," Lily replies, thinking the skinhead most likely won't try to press charges. That would mean admitting he got his ass handed to him by a girl half his weight, and besides, it's not like he knows who she is. A bit of fiddling lets her find the tiny data card where most people store their photos, and Lily removes it, snapping it in half. Then she rolls down the window and tosses the phone beneath the wheels of a passing truck.

"Hey, lady," the cabbie begins, and Lily cuts him off.

"It's not my phone. I just don't like random strangers trying to take upskirt photos of me. They deserve what they get." That gets a sympathetic chuckle. It's all true, just not precisely applicable to the current situation.

Nina's back on her own side of the seat, watching Lily warily as if she doesn't quite believe her version of events. Personally, Lily feels lucky that the guy didn't come after her. He might've caught up with her, and that would've caused a scene. She's wiped the floor with men much bigger and stronger than she is, but she needs the element of surprise to do it. They're always so startled that someone so petite and pretty can be so unrelentingly vicious in a fight.

The way the streetlights flicker through the cab as they move is having an effect on Nina. Her eyelids flutter and her features begin to relax as she slides deeper under the grip of the ecstasy. Lily watches her, and slowly starts walking her fingers across the space between them. She taps at Nina's thigh lightly, and the girl's dark brown eyes fix on hers. No expectation there, no demand, nothing but a passive receptivity. So Lily slides her hand between Nina's thighs, finding even her tights moist. Nina's eyes slip closed as she takes a shaky breath, her knees parting a little more. The cabbie's glancing in his mirror, and Lily smirks his way before devoting her full attention to Nina.

Lily works her fingers slowly, rubbing against Nina through her clothes, and her hips arch hungrily toward Lily's hand. The expression on her face is a preview of things to come, her dark brows drawn together by lust and uncertainty. The fabric's thin enough that Lily can feel her perfectly, and she knows exactly where to place each leisurely stroke. She slides just a little lower, pressing just a little deeper. Then Nina gasps, her eyes flying open, and she catches Lily's hand, pulling it away.

Nina looks over at her, and there's something complicated in her gaze now, somewhere between 'don't' and 'not now'. Lily just smiles as Nina laces their fingers together and holds her hand firmly on the seat of the cab. She looks away to hide how predatory her grin's becoming. With a little luck, by the end of the night she'll have everything she wants.


End file.
